Dear Reader,

Maybe it’s the fact that my days have begun to run together that lately I just don’t feel beautiful.  I usually have this need to pin point when things change in my life, a few days ago something very seemingly ordinary made me really happy. Of course, it was like spring had sprung, and the yellow birds were singing in the distance. Then I woke up, I was not dreaming, I was fully awake, but just as quick as it came it was gone, and silence took it’s place.

So today, while trying on a pretty dress, and messing with my hair some. A question came to mind; When was the last time you felt beautiful or handsome which ever applies?  I know we are all beautiful on the inside, but outward wise, when was the last time anyone felt attractive?

I can tell you, in my case, it’s been a while.  Today I caught a glimpse of me in the mirror and I thought, not bad for 30. I didn’t however, break into song in dance of “I feel pretty oh so pretty”. I will leave that to West Side Story’s Maria.  I don’t think I feel that beautiful just yet.

I spend most of the time in jeans and t-shirts, that’s me.  I guess I focus more attention in living inside my thoughts, sometimes smiling at the memories that come to my mind and at others wishing I could have skipped over a day.

Someone commented that my dream of a few nights ago, might be do to an upswing in things, well that is not all that was mentioned, but I believe is the only part of it that fits me. Considering, I was so happy a few days ago. Then yey.  I’m okay now, just bored! Thinking of taking a nap soon. The silence is getting louder and louder.  Yes, not much goes on around here as usual, but who knows, maybe this point in my life is like the waiting room of an airport. Soon I’m sure my time will come and I will fly into the stars, or in a less poetic fashion have more going on. You never know. Dream! Dare to dream, dare to believe in magic.

About claoclao

I am another soul that came into this world alone and shall inevitably leave said world the same way. It is not the beginning or the end of my life that matters, only the middle.

Posted on July 2, 2012, in Journal and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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