It is now the next day.
Interesting how time passes. I am officially 29.
I had a lot of dreams and goals, thrown to the wayside, forgotten.
The gears turn as seasons change.
And dreams, they don’t stay the same.
While pains and wishes remain. Why do regrets linger?
Surprisingly, amidst the emptiness, there was a sort of relief. This apathetic view of life,
from any notion of connection.
And I’m sure I’ve learned to love myself.
I’ve lived enough to be ready to leave.
I turned 29 this year, and I wrote a letter. It said, ‘dear’.
It was a letter written to the image that inspired my main character, Sebastian. I keep this blue-black velvet journal where I write letters to this imaginary being. They are letters I write to someone as a way to release the tension in my heart. It’s like writing Listening to Georgiana, but rawer and definitely more personal.
This journal inspired a slew of writing creations. I have like a page left, and I intend to write how 29 has been for me.
It’s been empty, but I can tell that the emptiness from when I started the journal is not the same as I feel now.
And it reminded me of my “Meet the Artist” Series. I will be creating a small collection of poems I wrote when I turned a year older… I believe it starts at 24.
This is me at 29.