So I finally feel like my heart is a little healed and I can finally write about something else other than my incredibly personal and slightly pathetic injury. (But it does currently feel like it’s being held together by duct tape and dodgy stitching so I need to remind myself not to run before I can sew and also feelings aren’t pathetic they’re.. whatever the opposite to pathetic is!)
It’s been a pretty difficult year – to the point that 1) I actually can’t believe it’s May and 2) That I survived the winter! I thought a much nicer image for you nice friends/family/brief acquaintances; instead of the ugly truth – I’ve just been hibernating. I absolutely love butterflies and after seeing them at Bristol Zoo nibbling away at pineapple and flying directly into lovely strangers faces / eyeballs – I felt quite attached to them and got a little tattoo to represent the amazing process these little miraculous creatures go through. To tell you the truth I’ve felt like a little green squidgy caterpillar my whole life – In fact I even prefer insects and creepy crawlies because they’re so weird and wonderful and I’ll always have a soft spot for the outcasts.
A lot of people close to me / my “intensive” team (my cocoon process apparently required an intensive team.. to my extreme, bound and constricted dismay ) tried to attempt to tie up & pin the blame on anyone they could catch. Parents; friends; boyfriends; strangers; teachers; whole countries; whole species; the universe – you name it. I think every day I got more and more well just genuinely sad really, I didn’t want to blame anyone. If somebody thought I was a caterpillar – you know what I probably was a caterpillar for them. There’s no rule in life that says that everyone has to like you although I do think respect for all creatures should be mandatory – I’m not actually queen of the world and I can’t enforce anything on anyone – I can just write what I think. Besides you just can’t be a butterfly for everyone; and I’m okay with that.
What was peculiar for my “team” was how I arrived every session in a new pattern. I remember distinctly one morning after some guilty pleasure listening (Marilyn Manson.. Not even embarrassed) I couldn’t wait to wear all black, huge heels and tightly tied up hair with a little red ribbon choker. An ode to my early teens. The next week I wore a long white dress and glittered eyelids with delicate polka dotted lace petticoats and ankle bracelets and earrings that jingled. I think I was listening to Gabrielle Aplin or Lucy Rose or some other magnificent unicorn earth angel. Another time they came to visit me at home after a marathon week of listening to Arctic Monkeys and I Mean Only Arctic Monkeys – I closed my eyes whilst brushing my hair and ended up opening them to a pretty spectacular “Alex Would Be Proud of Me” behind the ear elvis quiff and I put on my favorite blue silk paisley dress and army coat complete with Rough Trade band badges and my old riding ankle boots.
To reiterate; the team became a little on edge and a little frightened at these dramatic change in dress and attitudes and quickly donned me a lunatic – a very friendly lunatic – but a lunatic and I’ve spent the last 3 months trying to prove otherwise.
It’s just; I’m just not one pattern and I’m not just one colour and I’m not just one thing. I believe nobody is good or bad – as Lemony Snicket says “People are like a chefs salad – a whole mixture of things”. My “wings” are ALL the colors and they’re huge even though I’m tiny because yess they’re imaginary but they serve as a nice metaphor for my musical and pop cultural influences which I don’t mean to brag but is really effin huge. I think it’s just easier to label someone insane then to admit that a person can simply just like a lot of different things and feel almost everything – even the someone – so – small – shouldn’t – like – the – dark – side – of – life – this – much – kind – of -things. I have no time for problems with change; stifling stereotypes or nasty name calling. It doesn’t affect me negatively anymore because at the end of the day I’d rather be a delusional fucking fairy queen then a cynical bitter bully.
My itunes library is almost touching the 5000 songs mark – which I’m a little proud of even though it’s a long way to go until I’m finished and I still love actually purchasing music even if it’s only digital copies. I like ska and reggae and rap music and classical music and brit pop and pop pop and metal and “indie” and goth and dance music and acoustic boys with dreamy eyes and girls that sound like secrets – I don’t know I guess I just appreciate the time and patience that goes into being a musician and my respect for strong females in bands is endlessly inspiring. Blondie; Gwen and Stevie nicks just to name a few. I feel like each and every one of these magical people have added colour to my life and “wings” and I would rather spend my life thanking them; then blaming the few people who tried to squish me until my guts painted the pavement. (Please don’t try and do it again, any of you, it hurts)
Luckily cocoons are pretty squish proof and although I felt the many, many attempts to dishearten me or to push me into a miniscule match box – I survived and now I think it’s safe for me to emerge, wriggle a bit and then just drop it.. and fly away from it all.
I plan to do this by going back to college to study music and not dropping out no matter how many beautiful creatures try and tempt me with flowers and lies. I’m going to stick at it, be proud of myself instead of waiting around for the predators to confirm my devastating self deprecating self doubt and wait for my fellow butterfly to remind me of my own magic and my own wings – even when they themselves will have the most beautiful wings – because they will be wings that are earned from believing in somebody other than just themselves and I will never stop admiring that. Ever.
I guess what I’d like to end with is just; if pretending to be a fairy gets you up in the morning don’t stop for shit. Literally. Explore as many avenues that excite you as possible and choose one (or if you’re super smart maybe more than one) and fly as high as you want; however you want to achieve that and switch on those fairy lights and believe whatever you want to believe.
So thank you for those who coaxed me out of my cocoon (otherwise known as my bed/ my bedroom / my duvet) and encouraged me to listen to all of my favorite bands – not just one – and celebrate the fact that you know what – I actually just like everything.
Sometimes it’s tiring and I’ve definitely learned to reserve my love for someone really really really god damn special but I won’t succumb to hatred and spite. Being on any sort of high horse is pretty horrible. After all I’m a butterfly; not a jockey.
Who knows where I’ll end up; doesn’t really matter.. I’ll most likely like it. And THAT’S the way the cookie crumbles and you’re not allowed any of it if you’re mean. If you can’t say anything nice – DO something nicer.
Peace & Love as always, thank you for those who care.