03-03-2018, 02:02 AM
[spoiler=little writing things]growing up was never easy, not even to the person who claims it is. it shows in the small parts of us, whether it be us holding onto our favorite tv show with the assistance of hoodie or t-shirt or if it’s looking through old photo albums when you’re crying on your eighteenth birthday. the latter is lilas, a girl who took joy out of the smaller things in life, the girl who took joy in being small. even as she grows, her naivety never leaves her. “an adult in a child’s body” they’d joke, but she’d recoil at the word adult and lock it up in a closet of things she’d try to avoid and revisit the toy box of memories she remembers and misses dearly to her heart. depression had corrupted many years in her life, but there’s so something sickeningly sweet about remembering Christmas and it transforming her world completely, if only for the time being, and her future is bright but when she misses the times she was younger, it never feels like it.
she’s stuck in a limbo of something that’s no longer there, tantalizing her ever so slightly as she reaches for it again and again, while peers around her try and dictate in ways that’ll cool up a baby face that she almost likes about her now that she’s actually an adult, one she used to hate. “maybe get a hair cut,” she was told when she was age seventeen. “or wear more makeup” but she’s too terrified to get one, and she barely knows how to do the other without looking like a clown than a woman. For this way, it seems to stay, with her refusal to change as the world grows up around her as she stubbornly wonders: why would they want to do that? What’s so good about paying stupid bills and being stuck at a stupid job? Hers had taken her parents away from her, she’s known that much. left her alone in a house too big for someone so vulnerable and so small, but it isn’t the speech of aging that persuades her to lean into the advice but... her parents herself.
a girl who arrives into a hair shop, all trembling fingers as she requests for a hair cut. “where to?” she places her hands on her shoulders and she dares to close her eyes because she doesn’t want to look. It’s painful, because each cut is like a loss, but also a gain, of something she wants to let go. she cries; but after that goes to sephora, placing herself into the chair after spending $50 on something she probably won’t use. “what do you want?” something flashy, she says and they paint her lips red, mascara dark. It’s no art of letting go, but the art of growing up, at least that’s what she’s told so with DIY on YouTube, she learns how to do her makeup often. She’s not just lilas now, she’s Lilas, the epitome of a name deserved to be capitalized. Someone ready and not so scared to be an adult[/spoiler]
she’s stuck in a limbo of something that’s no longer there, tantalizing her ever so slightly as she reaches for it again and again, while peers around her try and dictate in ways that’ll cool up a baby face that she almost likes about her now that she’s actually an adult, one she used to hate. “maybe get a hair cut,” she was told when she was age seventeen. “or wear more makeup” but she’s too terrified to get one, and she barely knows how to do the other without looking like a clown than a woman. For this way, it seems to stay, with her refusal to change as the world grows up around her as she stubbornly wonders: why would they want to do that? What’s so good about paying stupid bills and being stuck at a stupid job? Hers had taken her parents away from her, she’s known that much. left her alone in a house too big for someone so vulnerable and so small, but it isn’t the speech of aging that persuades her to lean into the advice but... her parents herself.
a girl who arrives into a hair shop, all trembling fingers as she requests for a hair cut. “where to?” she places her hands on her shoulders and she dares to close her eyes because she doesn’t want to look. It’s painful, because each cut is like a loss, but also a gain, of something she wants to let go. she cries; but after that goes to sephora, placing herself into the chair after spending $50 on something she probably won’t use. “what do you want?” something flashy, she says and they paint her lips red, mascara dark. It’s no art of letting go, but the art of growing up, at least that’s what she’s told so with DIY on YouTube, she learns how to do her makeup often. She’s not just lilas now, she’s Lilas, the epitome of a name deserved to be capitalized. Someone ready and not so scared to be an adult[/spoiler]
[align=center][font=arial][I]so, i heard the world doesn't revolve around me /:
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