Tuesday, March 3, 2015

Road Runner

Home is where the heart is? I guess I'm not in the position to know what that means. This is coming from a girl who lives out of a suitcase - 75% of the time, I'm on the road. I may have a place of my own where all my belongings are, where I've spent countless of money decorating (and still decorating), where pants are not necessary and where I love to lock myself in and eat everything, my heart can't seem to attach the word "home" to a specific place. I think it is because I am not meant to find a "home". I am not meant to find content in one spot. I am made to be in many places at once and never at a standstill. God gave me two legs, a dream, things to do, people to see and he is telling me to effin' use  those spider legs. I don't belong anywhere, I just belong everywhere.

As exhausting as it is and how badly I want the word "home" to pull on some sort of heart string attached to an image of a residency, I am glad to be a lone wolf and always on the move. To think my packing skills at this point is strong, it's not. It is sad to say that my packing skill is weak as heck. I will pay someone to pack for me in a heart beat. I'd rather stab myself in the eyeball than pack. That serious.

Mango Jacket | H&M Crop Shirt | Charlotte Russe  Slit Skirt | Hue Socks | Dolce Vita Shoes

 Photos by Justin Pizzi

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