‘meaning’ is very important to me. trying to figure out what things mean. what life means. what my life should mean.
inner meaning. isn’t that what we’re all looking for? why we turn to religion, to lovers, to careers?
i’ve been flitting through life, floating. i enjoy it. but i’m still trying to find meaning i suppose. sometimes i feel like i’m an 18-year-old thinking like a 50-year-old, about my best years being behind me. i know its asinine of course. 18-year-olds really shouldn’t be having mid-life crises! but these are the formative years, the years you’re at least supposed to be finguring out what the hell your life is going to ‘mean’.
i tend to change my goals a lot. tonight i had this brilliant epiphany.
“i love writing! i love fashion! perhaps… PERHAPS THESE PASSIONS CAN BE COMBINED?!’
so. fashion journalism. i write. i like clothes. sometimes my love of fashion makes me feel somewhat… vapid. isn’t fashion a horrible world? shallow and unfulfilling, promoting ideas about the way women should look and act and be? aren’t i the nice little girl who refuses to call anyone “fat” and who reads her classics and listens to music that “means something”? does that make me incredibly ill-suited to the world of fashion writing (i’m referring to writing for a fashion magazine, or blog)? i don’t know, but i really want to find out. maybe its my calling, writing about fashion and style and other “woman”-y things.
so currently i want, i want i want I WANT, to get an internship for a magazine that has fashion as a significant constituent of its content.
so, THE SEARCH BEGINS.
(and in the mean time i’m going to be writing about fashion so i can be like ‘LOOK AT WHAT I WRITE!’)