Sometimes, I sit alone under the stars and think of the galaxies inside my heart, and truly wonder if anyone will ever want to make sense of all that I am
You could say I’m an old soul, or a child at heart- 60 going on 6
artist // wanderer // dreamer // feeler
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been someone who’s much too sensitive (or so I’ve been told), someone thinks too much about anything and everything, an idealist in every sense of the word- a classic INFP in every sense. I suffer from a constant ache and longing for something more, for another adventure, for a bit of magic. I get lost in books and art and fantasy. I love people, I love listening to stories and getting to know them. I never want to stop growing and learning and exploring all the ‘what ifs’.
I’ve always gotten lost in words, an avid reader and a writer. I write to make sense of the world around me, to unravel all the emotions I can never express in person, I write as an outlet, I write to reflect, I write to run away and get lost. When I write, I’m free to dream and free to feel and let my thoughts run wild without any fear of judgement.
It is a terrifying thing, the honesty and vulnerability that comes with baring your soul in words, to share something so intense and real and personal. (I’ve never been one to open up completely) My writing is not always beautiful, it’s often a patchwork of words and sentences and feelings I can’t find the words for. It’s hard forcing the perfectionist in me to accept that it’s never going to be perfect, I’m never going to be perfect. Much like life most of the time, it’s a mess. But it’s real. Raw and unfiltered.
It’s scary, but you know what? I’m done being scared of vulnerability and being scared of the intensity in which I feel and think. I’m a work in progress, an ever-changing myriad of thoughts and feelings, a bit scarred and pretty broken and sometimes a little bit crazy. And it’s okay. It’s going to be be one hell of a ride, but I think it’s going to be a beautiful one.
Allow beauty to shatter you regularly. The loveliest people are the ones who have been burnt and broken and torn at the seams, yet still send their open hearts into the world to mend with love again, and again. You must allow yourself to feel your life while you’re in it. -Victoria Erickson