Damaged Youth

Me, Myself & I

Personal | Myself | Video Before you get too involved, I will warn you: I am a fucking mess. I wish I lived in Wonderland. I wish I could wear fancy jewellery and pretty shoes all of the time. I’m obsessed with the Olsen twins, Clemence Poesy, Marilyn Manson, Lady Gaga & Lana Del Rey. I want to travel the world. I want to go to France. I want to live there for a few years. I want to wander the streets of Paris armed with a camera and a French phrase book/dictionary and make various attempts to converse with the locals in an awful French accent and a terrible knowledge of the French language. I love French accents. ‘Phantasmagoria’ is my favourite word alongside ‘valentine’. I want to collect glossy magazines and make high fashion collages to put on my wall. I like the way glossy magazines feel and I like the way books smell. I love people who speak in a “flowery” manner and who use pet names for too often in casual conversation. ‘Sweetie’, ‘cutie’ and ‘pumpkin’ are three of my favourites. I have the social skills of Wednesday Addams and I quite like it that way; I don’t really like getting close to people because I get extremely attached to things very easily and I find it almost impossible to move on. It only results in pain. I’m a very anxious, nervous and paranoid person and I cry far too much. My mouth tends to give away my mood and I hate my smile. Well, not so much my actual smile, but more the way my face looks when I smile because I have chubby cheeks and weird eyes, they look Asian (my eyes, not my cheeks). I want to cover my body in tattoos. I want a portrait of Edgar Allan Poe on my foot. I want a poem down my ribs. I want a map of the world around my wrist. I want a huge back piece and something on the inside of my bottom lip. I want to dye my hair a crazy colour, just to say that I’ve done something that is somewhat rebellious in my life. I want to grow my hair down to my waist and spend hours playing with it and then skip around my house and pretend that I’m Rapunzel. I want to have picnics in secret gardens, adventures in the forests, I want to take road trips in an old beat up car and get lost in a foreign place with someone I love, even though I would be terrified. I want to drive down dark roads at night at a dangerous speed, just for the rush of it. I want to do a trip around America and drive from one end of Route 66 to the other. I want to stop in every town and buy a souvenir. I want to go to a new town and speak in a ridiculous accent and use a ridiculous fake name, just for fun. I want to go to the mountains, the seaside, the countryside, the city, the desert, the rainforest and the Arctic. I want to live near a beach with white sand and crystal clear water. I want to travel the world and build up a collection of silly keepsakes from each place, like seashells and baseball caps and gum wrappers and pencil sharpeners and ticket stubs from movies and concerts and train journeys. I want to kiss in the rain. I want to be the little spoon. I want kisses on the end of my nose and cuddles when I’m sad. I want spontaneous hugs and sneaky kisses. I want sparkles, glitter, sequins, diamantes and shiny things. I want Japanese dolls and romantic names and pretty sounding words. I want beautiful music and meaningful lyrics. I want a collection of books on metaphysics, astrology, psychology and falling in love. I want poetry books. I want piles of books, hundreds upon hundreds lying around everywhere. I want poetry on my bedroom walls. I want fairy lights to light up my room. I want fluffy pillows and silk bed sheets. I want a comfy rug, pretty pictures, inspirational quotes, Polaroid pictures and a little bit of mess. I want to fall asleep with someone playing with my hair and whispering silly things that make me giggle. I want high heels, ripped tights, baggy tops, oversized jumpers and messy hair. I want to bite the crispy coating off of the Minstrels before eating them. I want the bag of popcorn to still have a few kernals left at the bottom. I want to eat in fancy restaurants and get a little bit too drunk in each of them. I want to walk with confidence and occasionally prance instead of walking, just to satisfy my inner child. I want flowers, lots and lots of flowers. I want roses and lilies and tulips and daisies everywhere. I want pretty notebooks tied up in a ribbon. I want to spend all day writing. I want to write until the words are incoherent to everyone else but precious to me. I want pretty words, soft words, regal words. I want to watch Alice in Wonderland and Anastasia until I know every line off by heart. I’m obsessed with the Romanov story. I want to be able to quote books off of the top of my head in any kind of conversation. I want to laugh so hard that I end up crying. I want to cry so hard that I end up laughing. I want to be compassionate, considerate and calm. I want to make other people happy. I adore the feeling you get after someone tells you that you made them smile. I want to chase my dreams, find my purpose and be content with my life. I want to change the way people view the world. I want to climb trees, bruise my knees and rip my jeans. I want to get my hands dirty. I want to lie in the long grass and read a book. I want to live by the sea and go swimming every single morning. I want to sit alone in a peaceful garden, drinking tea and eating fancy cakes. I want teacups to be filled with glitter and cupcakes to be filled with inspiration I want to be remembered for something. I’m never where I am, I live inside my head and I’m sure I would be enchanted to meet you. Facebook | Twitter | Blogspot