WOODSTOCK

When I stumbled across the recent look book by Tree of Life I knew I had to share it. Everything about this is perfection, from the Penny Lane inspired fur coat to the embroidered detailing throughout the whole range. I instantly wanted to buy the entire range, run into a field and try and recreate these beautiful images. 

Tree of life you are everything I dream about bottled into one shop. I not only want to dress in these magical creations all day everyday, I also want to deck my house out in all their magical home wares. Oh a girl can dream.

XX

Blurred Lines

I sat with you in the hospital trying to make light of the situation. You sat there with catheters in your arms and tubes pumping medicine into your veins.

You didn’t deserve this - so kind and gentle. You deserved what I had but took for granted.  My mind was dying but so to was your body. I watched you many moments after that day struggling with your disease wishing we could trade places. Wishing I could suffer for you instead.

We were both so sick. One of us had no choice; the other had all the choices in the world.

We laid on the floor in the darkness. I felt your body tense up and your breathing begin to get heavier. I turned around so we were face to face in the darkness. I could see the outline of concern written across your brow. You closed your eyes and breathed in deeply. ‘I love you,’ you whispered to me in the night. I kissed you in return knowing that I could not say it back. I did not believe you, for you see, who could ever love a monster like me? 

He liked you from the start. There was no hesitation. He could see your soul and your soul held nothing but compassion. You swung his little body up onto the slide and helped him slide down. I was there at the bottom to catch him as you had caught me so many times before. We stood there all three of us and I fantasized that maybe one day this picture would actually become a reality. A little family of our own.

On my wall there is a hand written note that says ‘I will love you until the last rose dies.’ I still have that rose forever preserved in my draw. Surrounded by memories I am not yet ready to let go of. Forever preserving what couldn’t be. For you have died my sweet and with death so to dies your love. Your soul has been gifted to another whilst I sit here trying to come to terms with the fact that you have gone.

I type this slowly with tears streaming down my face knowing that I will never see you again.

Maybe we can go on a holiday together at some point you said. This is our holiday, our last trip, our final goodbye. We are travelling in opposite directions with a small hope that one-day we will meet again. But for now you are gone and it is easier for me to just let you go.

Ride

I was in the winter of my life and the men I met along the road were my only summer. At night I fell asleep with visions of myself dancing and laughing and crying with them. Three years down the line...and my memories of them were the only things that sustained me. And my only real happy times. 

I was a singer. Not a very popular one.

I once had dreams of becoming a beautiful poet but upon an unfortunate series of events saw those dreams dashed and divided like a millions stars in the night sky. That I wished on over and over again, sparkling and broken.  Bit I really didn't mind because I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted and then losing it to know what true freedom is.

When the people I used to know found out what I had been doing, how I had been living, they asked me why… But there's no use in talking to people who have a home.  They have no idea what its like to seek safety in other people. For home to be wherever you lie your head. 

I was always an unusual girl. My mother told that I had a chameleon soul. No morel compass pointing me due north. No fixed personality 

Just an inner indecisiveness that was a wide and wavering as the ocean and if i said I didn't plan for it t turn out this way I'd be lying.

Because I was born to be the other woman.

Who belonged to no one.

Who belonged to everyone

who had nothing 

Who wanted everything 

With a fire for every experience and an obsession for freedom that terrified me to the point that I couldn't even talk about it and pushed me to a nomadic point of madness that both dazzled and dizzied me. 

- Lana Del Rey