I'm very excited for it! I have two weeks off, it's crazy to think how fast time has gone by. It seems like just yesterday was June... crazy.

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My goals for the next two weeks off are :

• Journal at least half the days, so seven times. I'm trying to journal more, create a habit if that makes sense.
• Write 15 000 words. I think I can do it! I want to also start a habit, same with journaling. I have a lot of projects and want to finish some of them before the week ends. Go into the new year without any loose ends. I think I can cover that in 15 000? It's more a minimum, if I do well, I'll go over it.
• Wake up early (again with the starting habits, haha) I used to wake up early a lot last Spring, I want to do that again.

That's all for now!

If anyone knows any good sites for logging word counts / graphing things? I want to track my word count over the following days. Also, if anyone knows how to put a picture in blogs? I can't figure it out :P

Bye for now!

love, lavender

a lil' poem i wrote
.....
The concept of a woman is sheer
Thin and obscure, slipping through my skin with a thin-woven compass
Wishing to settle onto a shape that holds it well
It dances amongst the wind and blows in front of my eyes
My coronas refuse to adjust, holding a blurred surrounding and only catching onto the edges

It's simple in the way a car is
Hold onto the steering wheel, push down, fall onto muscle memory
Unaware, unconscious to the delicately designed engine;
Chugging its desperate breathes out into an aroma of dresses and long hair and the careful balance of taking
Drive on, wind in your hair
It wishes to settle, yet no shape fits quite right

The concept of a woman is sheer
The closer I look the more it slips
Its edges burn in the ripe wind
And the smoke burns my eyes
Almost glimpsing it for it’s trueness
Settling into the quiet muscle memory of what is familiar

What is familiar is not always right, yet it is comfortable
Though whom am I to judge the comfort of an ill-fitting fabric when I’ve never dressed in another
Joy knows no bounds without heartbreak,
The largeness of something only becomes visible when it disintegrates

Steer the wheel, push the pedal, fall into the rhythm of your lonely, one habit
Feminity follows me like a ghost, entrancing me in a dance of measures unknown
My upbringing trailing down its’ hands and back,
Inked with the designs of my history; it’s still fresh and healing
The concept of a woman is sheer, and the ink is too dark
What was behind I can’t see
Stumbling blindly and grasping out for what’s true beneath the blurred horizons of what should be