La Viva Bloody Loca

It just takes one day, one encounter, one self reflective moment to realize that you're not exactly who you want to be. And who you thought you were and who you want to be are meshed together in a big ball of confusion. So what happens when one normally so comfortable with who they are decides that maybe they got it all wrong? How is one to see them self now?

You struggle in a bi-polar battle between change and the conventional. You struggle to retain some semblance of your previous self. You struggle to change into that which you think you want to be. But the inner conflict only brings confusion.
And you remember how everything used to be a long time ago. But things changed and instead of snapping beneath it all, you bend with them cause you're flexible. Who are you? You are someone who you decide to wake up to be everyday of your life. And then suddenly you realize that we're all just creatures of limitless possibilities.

I knew a boy. He wasn't emo. He liked dark and he wore black t-shirts, but he definitely wasn't emo. And then he started painting his nails black, and still he wasn't emo. Then he dyed his hair black and kept his fringe, but he still wasn't emo. And then he wanted to get skinny jeans...

I knew a girl. She thought she was above all the girly stuff. She liked her trainers and her baggy jeans, and rolled her eyes at hair flicking and fringe fidgeting women. Then she bought a dress. Then she bought a pair of heels. And when she wore them the people treated her differently, and she liked it. But then she had lost herself. Did this mean she was one of them?

Where does one stop? Where is the limit? What happens when you look back and see that you've left the marker miles behind you? Because it was this easy to keep on going, step after step after step to get to where we are now.
And from here we keep falling.


and Momma I've been crying cause things ain't how they used to be.
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