Turning 25

I am turning 25 today and it really isn't as amazing as I would have thought it would be. I remember dreaming what my life would be like when I was 25. I am not where or how I dreamt I would be.

I had thought I would be doing some job that was a creative outlet (Makeup Artist, Illustrator, Designer, Etc) in a big city such as New York, London, or Tokyo.

I had thought I would have found the love of my life and would be oh so very happy with this person.

I thought I would have the fierce creative drive that I used to have, when I couldn't put a sewing needle, a paint brush, or a pencil down. That need to create beautiful things.

This is not the way things are currently, and it doesn't mean that I don't think there is still a chance for them to happen.

I think all the pieces would fall into place if I had my muse. I think that one true love would be my inspiration, my motivation. The flame to help spark my happiness and in turn my creativity.

I still have hope. I feel like the poor heart in the rain on a cement sidewalk pictured above. I was once beautiful flawless. Now I have slipped out of my original path onto the side lines. I've had my downs and have been stepped on. Some of my beautiful bright red has been scrapped of onto the cement, but most of it is still there shining. There is still hope that someone walking by might catch my shining red in the light and enjoy my beauty even if just for a moment, though I wish it were for longer.