It can be embarrassing. My shoes are broken and dirty. My hair is fried from the sun. You can usually tell that my clothes were previously owned. I have odd tan lines. Usually, when people from other provinces see me they know I am from Cape Town: the ever so predictable beach style.
I mean, I try to shake it up a little, but enviably I can not escape it. When I look in my closet searching for an outfit appropriate for something grown-up like a interview, I can not come close. But here I am, crazy hair and all, I look down at my sandy, worn-out shoes and I kinda secretly like it.
A child’s kaleidoscopic imagination - a thing we don’t often see.
Even sadness will stop following you, if you splash it with the colors of sunset.
Publish today. Leave a poem on a river stone, a fallen leaf, a dollar bill.
There ought to be a Lost & Found for half-formed ideas, moments of serenity, missed opportunities.
Who you’ve been never has to be who you are.