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2006 to 2011.
Sometimes, I feel like life has been a general blur the past five, six years, all those months bleeding silently into each other without pause. When I look at these pictures, I think about how I've been a real shit to my hair, which it in no way deserves. But the color and length of my hair somehow became the benchmarks of the main events of my early adulthood: I still had virgin black hair when I entered college, which is as metaphorical as it can get. It didn't stay that way for a long, though. When I first colored my hair, it was around the time when I got rejected by my first ex/high school flame when I asked him if we could give it another shot. I was 19, and it hurt like hell. It was hell the way only first loves that end are. When I cut it short, I was sick and tired of boys and the whole dating thing; I just chopped it all off because I seriously couldn't be bothered anymore. I remember really getting into film and photography, so I was really absorbed with my majors. They were obsessions that stilled my heart and engaged my brain, which were both welcome.
The black helmet hair didn't last long (you'll know it when you see it), but I remember how emotionally drained I felt at that time. The picture where I have on a hoodie was when, suddenly, I fell in love big time. He was off to the airport and he wrote down a scribble on my hand that I wasn't supposed to wash until he came back. I didn't get a haircut the whole time we were together. Also, I wanted to have long hair because at that time, I was interning in a fashion magazine and I was just in that phase. Then I don't know, we broke each others hearts, inexplicably, undoubtedly, and I just... I went blonde. Ha. A week after, I regretted it and tempered it with some brown.
Right now, my hair is long, waist-length; it's a nondescript, Asian brown with blunt bangs. I don't know where I am exactly though. I'm still grasping around for what I really want to do, to be. I had so much expectations for this time of my life. If you told my 18-year old self that this is what 23 feels like, she'll probably smile politely and think inwardly what a loser you are for being what you are at 23. But I guess this is reality, not the naive perceptions of a kid. I'm not exactly feeling hopeless though, just a little lost. All I can do is face it with honesty and passion, and I'm sure somewhere down the line I'll stumble on "it". Whatever that is.
But anyway, I love birthdays! Today's going to be a blast, I just know it. (Also, happy debut anniversary to my five-man rainbow/sparkles/storm brigade! You have saved me in minute but important ways and I love you guys forever ♥)
Sometimes, I feel like life has been a general blur the past five, six years, all those months bleeding silently into each other without pause. When I look at these pictures, I think about how I've been a real shit to my hair, which it in no way deserves. But the color and length of my hair somehow became the benchmarks of the main events of my early adulthood: I still had virgin black hair when I entered college, which is as metaphorical as it can get. It didn't stay that way for a long, though. When I first colored my hair, it was around the time when I got rejected by my first ex/high school flame when I asked him if we could give it another shot. I was 19, and it hurt like hell. It was hell the way only first loves that end are. When I cut it short, I was sick and tired of boys and the whole dating thing; I just chopped it all off because I seriously couldn't be bothered anymore. I remember really getting into film and photography, so I was really absorbed with my majors. They were obsessions that stilled my heart and engaged my brain, which were both welcome.
The black helmet hair didn't last long (you'll know it when you see it), but I remember how emotionally drained I felt at that time. The picture where I have on a hoodie was when, suddenly, I fell in love big time. He was off to the airport and he wrote down a scribble on my hand that I wasn't supposed to wash until he came back. I didn't get a haircut the whole time we were together. Also, I wanted to have long hair because at that time, I was interning in a fashion magazine and I was just in that phase. Then I don't know, we broke each others hearts, inexplicably, undoubtedly, and I just... I went blonde. Ha. A week after, I regretted it and tempered it with some brown.
Right now, my hair is long, waist-length; it's a nondescript, Asian brown with blunt bangs. I don't know where I am exactly though. I'm still grasping around for what I really want to do, to be. I had so much expectations for this time of my life. If you told my 18-year old self that this is what 23 feels like, she'll probably smile politely and think inwardly what a loser you are for being what you are at 23. But I guess this is reality, not the naive perceptions of a kid. I'm not exactly feeling hopeless though, just a little lost. All I can do is face it with honesty and passion, and I'm sure somewhere down the line I'll stumble on "it". Whatever that is.
But anyway, I love birthdays! Today's going to be a blast, I just know it. (Also, happy debut anniversary to my five-man rainbow/sparkles/storm brigade! You have saved me in minute but important ways and I love you guys forever ♥)