Today I spent some time during my free period walking around, reflecting–as I always do–on life and what my purpose here is. I walked towards the front of my school–to the stairs that divide the old B Building and the new E building. I stood at the outlook and gazed at the little street that intersects perpendicular to Del Mar Heights Road. You know, the one leading up to the little Mormon church at the top of the hill. I stared intently at this street and the trees planted in a line up the center divider, separating the two sides of the road. And seeing the trees today in the midst of the blooming spring reminded me of how different these same trees looked a few short months ago, half a year ago, a whole year before today. I don't mean in the sense that trees change inevitably for each season of the year. Rather I noticed the difference in my views and emotions connected to this image–just a little piece of the world that I see everyday, never paying much attention to it at all. I noticed how the changes in my life–in me–affect how I see the world. In this image, today, I saw my past two years at this school. I saw me, as a sophomore in the fog of the early morning waiting for my English teacher to unlock the classroom door, looking out onto that street, those trees, the same way I am right now. I saw me, last June on the last day of school–the preceding seniors' graduation day–post-graduation ceremony, walking barefoot along the cemented ground of my campus. Not wanting to let go of what was an amazing and awakening year. Standing in the same place I stand now, I looked out onto that street, those trees, and I thought about how different things were now. A day hadn't even past yet, but so much had changed. The trees were emerald in the golden sunset light that day. It was getting cold. But I couldn't part with the ground beneath my feet just yet. I couldn't let go.
From year to year our world doesn't change; but the way we view it does change. We change. The way we look at a person or a street or a table. Things as simple as these, make us feel like the world is changing around us. That each year that passes is so different from the year preceding it and so on. But what has really changed? The world? I have looked at that same street for three years. And each year, each day, I see something different. But what has changed? The trees are still the same trees they were years ago. The street is still just a street. It is me. Me. My thoughts. That's what has changed. Standing here a year ago felt so different from how it does today. But it's the same place. Only I have changed.
What am I? Four years. Each year distinctly different. Each one with a purpose. What am I now, with my final year here coming to an end and nothing to call my life anymore–I am no longer the innocent freshman, the lost sophomore, the awakened junior, or the ambitious senior. What am I, now. What has changed? What hasn't changed? I am tomorrow in the views of yesterday. Tomorrow comes and I was today. And yesterday becomes a memory. Everything is the same, but it looks so different. From my eyes.
I feel tan, man.
Vest: Flashbacks, Jeans: Tilly's, Boots: Aldo, DIY bow
Ironically, the preceding detailed description only took up about five minutes of my day. The rest of it was spent in class (of course), then meeting the mayor of San Diego with my mom, then shopping at American Apparel for some festival clothing for Coachella (11 days away!). I'm really excited to share these new pieces with you over the next couple weeks. Today's outfit featured the vest that I thrifted this past weekend. I wore it with a simple pair of ripped jeans and my black booties.
Thanks for reading! If you like what you see, stay tuned for tomorrow and tell your friends to check it out too!
Stay unnaked.
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