I expected to turn thirty as the most confident, successful, badass version of myself, but really, I’m turning thirty as the same silly me I’ve always been. The same chaotic, but ambitious mess. The same indecisive, change-my-train-ticket-three-times-a-day bitch. The same bursting ass heart.
“Even just thinking of it, I find myself desperately grateful, the kind of grateful that has no where to go but out in little water drops from the corner of my eyes. The kind of grateful that feels fraudulent because I can’t really express it the way it deserves to be expressed. The kind of grateful that covers the hour in a warm, amber filter.” -- I have tears!!!! This whole piece was perfectly sentimental and self-aware. Thirty shall be magical 😍
“Even just thinking of it, I find myself desperately grateful, the kind of grateful that has no where to go but out in little water drops from the corner of my eyes. The kind of grateful that feels fraudulent because I can’t really express it the way it deserves to be expressed. The kind of grateful that covers the hour in a warm, amber filter.” -- I have tears!!!! This whole piece was perfectly sentimental and self-aware. Thirty shall be magical 😍