Collections ~bags~

 

 

A bag can be both appealing to the beholder and beneficial to the wearer. For me, the right bag will determine the success of my outfit and my avoiding of back pain. Please feel free to enjoy my collection of bags.

 

A basic black backpack is a staple to a collection of bags, but of course there are also many other backpacks that are needed in one’s collection.

 

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Though they may not be needed in every occasion, small and shiny accentuating bags give a formal occasion a little extra inconvenience for the sake of beauty… but they really are just beautiful… though one can see the outline of my deodorant in it… which isn’t ideal.

 

 

Basic and not necessarily attention drawing bags are really good for travel.

 

 

When I shop, I am drawn to the odd ball… I am drawn to what I can look at and say, ‘that’s so cool’. I want the same effect that I have when I look at my reflection. And so, I have some very unique items in my collection.

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And of course, I must never forget my beloved fanny pack sub-collection.

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There are many more bags that just wouldn’t photograph well, but here are some that did and didn’t have anywhere else to be displayed in the blog.

 

Much love to you and your collections.

~may your breath always be the way you wish~

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Growing Up Pt.2 ~Saying Goodbye~

Saying goodbye isn’t as common an occurrence as it is to loose people. Honestly, there is a solidarity in a goodbye. Dissolving away from someone without a defined resolution is a confusing, lengthy, and avoidable process.

When one is growing up, we discover the art of saying goodbye and the exact weight of it.

Something literally has to be reasoned through in order to come to a solid conclusion that is a goodbye. Think back to the people who are no longer in your life… Did they say goodbye? Did they need to? Did it lessen the blow if they did?

The thing about goodbye is that it doesn’t lessen the loss, but rather, it acknowledges that it is a loss, and solidifies the need for a disconnection.

All the people I simply cut form my life without word probably don’t have very positive feelings about me, or they’re left peeking in my general direction wondering if I still know they exist. Bottom line is, I do, but the Leanne from even a few months ago wasn’t considerate enough to say goodbye. I’m still growing up.

Being able to say goodbye marks a true developmental milestone in one’s life… in my opinion.

Knowing when to say goodbye is also a pretty big determining factor of one’s growth. Toxic relationships are obvious in hindsight, but learning to be the better version of oneself by severing ties with the wrong people will ultimately make you a better you.

So, to all the people who stopped talking to me… and all the people I stopped talking to… Goodbye. You were once important to me. Thank you for existing.

**Disclaimer**  There are many people one simply falls out of life with, and thats normal in the changing times of developing adultness. (This is also a part of the ‘growing up’)

**Ultimate disclaimer** If you can’t say goodbye to someone, but you haven’t talked to them in a while, then shoot them a message and see if they want to hang out or something. Even if you haven’t spoken for a while, conversations are always pleasant, if you want them to be.

Much love to you and yours.

~may your breath always be the way you wish~

 

Growing Up Pt.1 ~Travel w/o Adult Supervision~

Growing up is something we all do. Its what teenagers think they already did, what parents of teenagers say they aren’t done doing, what young adults struggle through, and what aged people cherish as memories.

In all honesty, ‘growing up’ is a part of that strange facet in the english language in which its not exactly describing exactly what it means, but everyone knows what it means exactly… or do we. Growing… up? Such a strange phrase, but really what does it entail?

I have come to realize that the essence of growing up is learning how to do life, how to be  ‘successful’, and defining what it means to live life and be successful. Once you learn to do that then I think you can say ‘I’m grown up’ without your parents or your doctors disagreeing with you. If you can’t do those things then buy a briefcase… most people judge solely based on appearance anyways.

SO! Growing up! How does one do that? Good question! I’m not fully sure myself, but through this series I shall be looking for steps and answers and tips and such that will hopefully assist you in the ‘growing up’.

The first moment I truly felt grown was when I traveled on the weight of my own responsibility. Getting away from the concerned clutches of one’s parents will mark the first moments of growth on the path towards adulthood.

Its going to be difficult. Its going to challenge you. Its going to grow you.

Here’s a tip; Don’t see it negatively, taking in everything with fresh eyes. Don’t cower in the face of the unknown. Life is only as difficult as its allowed to be.

Traveling is the perfect scenario to bring to light a world you may have been oblivious to, which can reveal things about life you may have been missing. Problem solving is honed and sharpened when traveling, because let me tell you… anything can happen. That may sound scary, but tie your shoes and get to it because life and success are the perfect things to talk about instead of nonexistent relationships to the relatives you only see for the holidays.

Much love to you and yours.

~may your breath always be the way you wish~

A.Lone.


Everyone has the same face.

It keeps the distance.

The safety grasps them all with its cold nature.

Too many people, but everyone is alone.

 

“Umm excuse me little girl, you shouldn’t stand too close to the edge; the wind will sweep your little self away.”

I nod. My feet move away from the edge.

The woman’s aged hand reached itself out of its glove and pulled its way towards me. I cringed. She chuckled. Something in the way she did it wasn’t right. I looked back to her. She morphed into something monstrous and lunged towards me. I hurled myself backward in a flurry of instinct. “Oh come now little girl, won’t you step away from the edge?” My body was already over the water’s beckoning depths. A massive claw-riddled hand wrapped itself around my ankle, and I could only watch as my head met cement.

I have long since walked away from the little old woman. Its easier to imagine strangers as giant beasts that can kill you rather than face the reality of what they actually are.

 

My evening has always been the same.

I walk through the lobby greeted by the usual glance of the security crew. They see me too much to smile at my presence. It makes my stay at the building a solid one. I have been living in the dog friendly complex for two lease cycles. Its paying off. My sanity is slowly dwindling away as I am succumbing to the monotony of working life.

The sudden urge to push myself through the nearest window nearly overtook me. My stomach tightens as I opened my door. The view I’d fallen in love with as a child moving into her first place by herself is now a nuisance. A room with a bed is now something of an inescapable black hole pulling me into it every night for the passed too many nights.

A slice caused me to fall to one knee. I couldn’t cry out, the grip of a creature too opaque to get a handle on now pulled me into the core of itself. I reached for the nearest blunt object, but my mind was slowly fading into the darkness I caved into.

 

I’m awake.

Something is different. Something is always different, but somehow familiar, but this scent is all to new. “Good morning little one…” I look up into a new face. Was this my avid imagination spewing its usual ambiguous craziness…? “Who are you?” “Someone from your company who followed you home yesterday.” I look at him, perplexed. “Did it take you all night to pick the lock on my door?”

He sat on the side of my pit and peeked in. The face that looked down on me was… is…

“I’ve been trying to talk to you for about a month now… I wasn’t sure if you were truly deaf or if I was just imaging it… but… I think you are.” “I’m not.” I can see his face erupt with surprise. I laugh half-heartedly in response. “Why are you in my apartment…” “Why shouldn’t I be… I am just a concerned coworker… and you seem so alone.” Something ominous rests about his gaze.  “I need a good reason to tell the police. Should I just label you as a common stalker?” I reach for the phone awaiting my touch on the nightstand. His sudden grip is tight around my wrist. He is on top of me. I can’t breathe.

This is real…

Everywhere his hands go my consciousness goes with them. I can feel too much. He’s inside me before I even think of hurting him back. His face is against my neck, but I can still see it. All of him burns through my veins and I can’t breathe… I can’t think…

My mind is fully aware of him leaving. I could practically push him out the door, but my body is left without enough… enough.

Fear. Yeah, there’s always the ever present fear of the unknown which dictates life, but my warrant for fear has never been so real. This is real… What just happened was… and still is.

The heat kicked on. The noise, a jolt through my entire core… I pull myself from the clutches of wet sheets soaked in too much of what happened. I run to the bathroom. The shower is the only place behind a double locked door and a wall full of steam that could shroud me. Cover me and not touch me.

 

I haven’t left my abyss for days.

This apartment costs money. Money comes from work. Work is where I am sure to see that… that.

I can’t. I keep calling in sick. Yesterday and today, reaffirming my illness. I feel sick. Sicker than I’ve ever been before. I can’t. Maybe I am sick. Maybe I should see a doctor. What can they give me to fix this… this?

I operate only on instinct calling the one soul within humanity who is able to send me something even over a telephone signal. “Hello mom…” Sobs stop me. “Oh sweetie what’s wrong. I’m here baby, just tell me what happened.” Words…. They pour out to her. Only she can decipher what I spew. I don’t even know, let alone, understand. I’m more confused voicing it out loud than when it was happening.

“Sweetie… I’m booking a flight now. I will be there in a few hours. You need to be there in that apartment when I get there okay? I love you so much, and I’m going to destroy that little fucker. Oh my love…” Her voice softly drifts out to my lone existence. “You are not alone… I am here for you and I love you and I will never hurt you. Know this.”
I know. “I love you too.” I hang up, tense with the notion of it. I turn myself over to sleep on the couch and await the arrival of my savior in the silence of unconsciousness.

 

My mother is stronger than anything I’ve ever seen.

She was there with me when I spoke to HR. She and all her law studies made sure the man was fired and in court on Monday for a hearing. He’d soon be imprisoned for, maybe too much time, but my mother insisted it wasn’t enough compared to how much her daughter had suffered.

Watching her act so swift and direct makes me feel something. Its like a piece of my core gets sparked and burns the rest of me into flames dwindling suffering into ashes that then fertilize the potential of my future.

I walk out of the courthouse with a new sense of purpose, to find purpose.

 

“It’s a beautiful world we live in with a solid justice system if one knows how to work with it… but some people don’t see it that way. They see a place filled with monsters and everyone being out to get them. I suppose its easier that way. Assuming everyone is out to destroy you rather than opening yourself up to only the possibility of a life not alone. You want some more tea, sweetie?”

I smile. I want more tea. I want more. I am so lucky to look into the face of love and no longer feel alone.

The waitress replenished our table with tea. Her smile is warm and her words soft, but her eyes pool ever so slightly with the nervous task of eye contact. “I love your hair.” My thank you is solidified by my smile. She walks away, no giant monster becoming her.

People are people. Not monsters.

 

 

A lone moment sent me into the grasp of reality.

The reality of true vulnerability.

of true pain.

true fear.

true love.

true sureness.

true change.

 

 

Everyone has their own face.

Their cold indifference is the distance that keeps everyone feeling safe.

The safety implies that there is something to be cherished.

Too many people, but everyone is alone… so then… are we truly alone?

 

 

Writers Notes;

Feeling alone is the worst of all the feelings… in my opinion. It is often the cause of evil, if not for direct contribution than for the the allowance of it to take root and flourish. It can be the sole cause of mental illness or worsen it. It is easy to fix, but difficult to overcome. Solidarity in one’s solitude can be both liberating and depressing. Knowing of its existence can also have the same set of effects.

Here’s my advice. Try new things. Go to new places. Talk to strangers. (You don’t know if they’re too weird unless you talk to them;)

Remember, that person you see and think, “We’d be really good friends” probably struggles from the same fear of social interaction and need for attention that you do. So don’t succumb to the fear, if not for your sake than for theirs.

~may your breath always be the way you wish~

Fair Weather Fashion ~Spring Time~

“Ahhhh what a lovely day for the outdoors”

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“Oh hello camera… how nicely you capture the full essence of my arm”

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“Look at my other one…”

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“Oh yeah and I’m diggin this fit”

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Spring is kind of an ugly season when you don’t live near cherry blossoms. The rain returns and with it the heat and so on until summer. BUT! Its the perfect time to introduce bright colors back into your wardrobe.

 

Accent pieces are subtle ways in which you can add a little extra dimension to a wardrobe, and with the changing of seasons, the subtle exposure of lovely, lacy undergarments is an easy way to jazz up a look. Also, dainty chains and such have been making a comeback… if your trendy… you’re welcome… otherwise, just a heads up on what will be hitting the thrift stores this time next year.

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These two sets of outfits are perfect for saying, “Its spring!” or “I’m fifty years old today!” Whatever you aspire to say about yourself through your clothing, you can! Honesty with one’s clothing is a big step in the direction of self love.

Lastly, check out these shoes I got from ASOS that its already too hot to wear.

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Much love to you and your wardrobe.

~may your breath always be the way you wish~

How I Find Inspiration

 

I allow it to find me…

But really though. I have days that are completely uninspiring. How do I release myself from the funk?

I cook for myself… and eat!

I cook delicious food, which, in itself, calms me and allows me to ponder things that are stifling me. Eating itself gives my mind the sustenance it needs to continue passed all that is uninspiring to me.

If that fails, then I simply have forgotten to drink my coffee.

 

I look to books/ compilations of quotes.

The quote on the back of my quote book says it best, “A quotation at the right moment is like bread to the famished.” – The Talmud

 

I walk on the beach.

I mention this bit quite often because walking is just the right amount of energy exertion needed to keep my mind heading towards the destination of creation. The beach is also my place of serendipity.

 

I organize my workspace.

I know this may not look organized to you, but the process was vigorous and yes… this is organized.

Applying a little organization to the place you spend most of your creative time can allow for a little breathing room and chaos-quelling to assist you in your quest for inspiration.

 

I do random activities with others… whom I enjoy.

That last bit is quite important. Calling that person who always tends to leave you in a bad mind space isn’t the best bet for inspiring onself.

Try organizing a spur of the moment venture with a being who believes, inspires, and allows you to be yourself.

Much love to you and your inspiration.

~may your breath always be the way you wish~