SO, I recently did makeup for a professional photshoot, that was an interesting experience! It helps to have friends with connections! This might be a start into something serious, the photographer said I could come back! I'm doing it for free, which some people in my family think I shouldn't do, but I didn't go to school for this, I'm no professional. Doing this gives me some excellent experience, great memories, a hand in making something beautiful, and a portfolio of work and a list of connections!! What more could I ask for? Why would I need to get paid? I love doing makeup - and I don't think anyone should pay me unless I could rightfully claim I'm a professional worth getting paid. I'm happy helping out. Fun to see the behind the scenes of professional photography, too. Very nice. My friend who brought me into this is a model, and certainly made me feel insufficient to do anything but do people's makeup. I think my dreams of being a suicidegirl or anything like that is far gone, far faaaar gone. I need to come to terms with who I am now. Whatever part of me that strived to be...what I envisioned myself to be...and held that energy, that fierceness, that...spark, is gone. Or at least, not a part of my life right now. I've grown up, I guess. My life is about holding myself together, holding my environment and the people in my life together. I'm working so hard to just be ok, and everything else to be okay, that I can't be carefree. And I can't take care of myself under the weight of pain and exhaustion and responsibility and my looks have waned, I've aged prematurely under the stress, and I'm just too tired to care anymore. I'm holding onto my youth with a thin string, holding on for my dear life while another part of myself has moved on to the world of responsibility and stress and holding different priorities. The old me who thrived on the pulse of darkness and emotion and that thick,...

SO, I recently did makeup for a professional photshoot, that was an interesting experience! It helps to have friends with connections! This might be a start into something serious, the photographer said I could come back! I'm doing it for free, which some people in my family think I shouldn't do, but I didn't go to school for this, I'm no professional. Doing this gives me some excellent experience, great memories, a hand in making something beautiful, and a portfolio of work and a list of connections!! What more could I ask for? Why would I need to get paid? I love doing makeup - and I don't think anyone should pay me unless I could rightfully claim I'm a professional worth getting paid. I'm happy helping out. Fun to see the behind the scenes of professional photography, too. Very nice. My friend who brought me into this is a model, and certainly made me feel insufficient to do anything but do people's makeup. I think my dreams of being a suicidegirl or anything like that is far gone, far faaaar gone. I need to come to terms with who I am now. Whatever part of me that strived to be...what I envisioned myself to be...and held that energy, that fierceness, that...spark, is gone. Or at least, not a part of my life right now. I've grown up, I guess. My life is about holding myself together, holding my environment and the people in my life together. I'm working so hard to just be ok, and everything else to be okay, that I can't be carefree. And I can't take care of myself under the weight of pain and exhaustion and responsibility and my looks have waned, I've aged prematurely under the stress, and I'm just too tired to care anymore. I'm holding onto my youth with a thin string, holding on for my dear life while another part of myself has moved on to the world of responsibility and stress and holding different priorities. The old me who thrived on the pulse of darkness and emotion and that thick, slippery passion and seduction that rides on waves of hormones and sexual tension. I lived off of an underworld, skimming on its surface and not quite drowning in it. Not quite living in it, just off of the idea of it. Now, I cling to things that are soft, gentle, bathed in sunshine and go slow, easy, and calm. I cannot dance, anymore. I cannot even wear the clothes I loved because my skin is too fragile, my body cannot hold itself upright, I need things that are comfortable, not sexy. Sexy isn't even in my vocabulary anymore. Do you realize how foreign that is to me? At this age, I imagined myself up to my ears in tattoos already sketched out and ready to go, pierced in places I wanted accented, hair dyed and cut like an edgy goddess. I would own the clothes I've always wanted, gone to the places and done the things I've always wanted....and its amazing, now I'm a disabled housewife with four cats and the best hobby I can hold on to is gardening. My art is almost non-existant, my skin is un-inked do to basically starting out poor and never leaving that level, ever. ( dont see that changing anytime soon), my body is destroyed and the only direction I have to look forward to is down....I have to hang on to anything happy I possibly can. The happiness I can get from my pets, my gardening, my family, my fiance. I've lost everything else I ever was. I'm just a shell trying to eek my way to my deathbed without causing myself any extra pain along the way. Well, anyway. Doing this makeup gig helps. I feel a little more like myself. Like I'm grasping at the edges of some world that shot right past me, always out of reach. Somewhere I'll never really get to. I'm not sure if the resulting bitterness is worth it? Or should i grasp at anything I can? Like I'm eating up the creative crumbs of the universe, unable to really 'create' anymore. My spark is gone, my lights are dim, my hands are stilled. This is my life. I'll grasp where I can, to 'live', while I merely exhist.