Long Live the Stream of Consciousness

Let's just get this out of the way first: I don't think my arms have seen the sun since 2013 and that's just the tea. Okay, now that we have my perpetual paleness covered, we can move on to whatever topic I've concocted for the day. I feel like there's been a noticeable shift in my content–or maybe not so noticeable–in which I've sort of switched gears. Or rather, I embraced the style of posts that I (1) enjoy writing the most and (2) seem to ~perform~ better. I'm not a numbers person, math and stats and all that jazz are not my strong suit nor one of my interests, but you can't help but notice patterns in your analytics and sometimes numbers just speak for themselves. You know, like LeBron's incredible statistics thus far in his career. They're indisputable unless you are a heathen and somehow dislike the angel that is LeBron James.

Sorry, that was rude.

What were we talking about? 

My content, that's right. The whole reason you're here unless you just for some reason have a thing for clicking on random blogs and scrolling through without actually consuming any of the content. In that case, thanks for giving my blog some traffic, it's much appreciated

I had an epiphany a few weeks ago (an epiphany Francesca, really? Is it that deep?) about what I'm writing about. I've tried out a lot of different topics on this blog. I've done beauty, fashion, college, blogging tips, lifestyle, entertainment. I'm the definition of the person who can't choose a niche because they have too many interests yet can't talk continuously about one of those interests without getting bored. 

In the midst of all of these posts about what I'm wearing or slathering on my face to make myself go from a solid 5 to maybe a 7 or reading to distract myself from the terrifying reality that is my life as a twenty-two-year-old with no direction (no direction? There's only one direction)(if you left this blog and never came back after that line, I wouldn't blame you at all), I kind of always fell back on one style of post that I can't quite decide what to call. 

Think pieces would be a grossly overestimated and generous word to describe my word vomit stream of consciousness that I rarely rein in. Rambles would be more on brand, but that's not an actual word to describe a piece of writing. *Harry Styles voice* Or is it...? 

(That was a very specific joke and if you got it, thank you and I appreciate you).

If you've encountered me in real life or even just caught a few of my chatty Insta Stories or a YouTube video or two, you'd know that deep down, I love the sound of my own voice. I'm what I would refer to myself as a semi-outgoing introvert. If you catch me in a good mood, I can come off as a pretty big extrovert until around hour three or four hits and then I start to get a little drained. But before I hit that wall, I truly embrace my inner Italian and just go all out. Balls to the wall, as one might say. I'll talk rapid fire like a Gilmore and wave my hands around maniacally for way too long and not even have to take a breath. 

When I write posts like these, it doesn't feel like writing. It feels like I'm talking with my fingers. Now I promise you I am not high as a kite right now. I'm very sober and happily eating a bagel with my morning iced coffee. That probably seems less convincing now...

For me, these word vomit posts come much more naturally so I'm learning to embrace them more and more. If you're here for tips and tricks, I'm sorry, but you're going to get thousand word long personal essays about my life instead. Take these as an underlying message of what not to do with your life unless you want to live your life incredibly confused every single day.

A few weeks ago, I had a slower week at work so I brought my "blogging notebook" (aka just a smaller pink notebook I got from Target that has college-ruled paper and makes me happy) with me so I wasn't just staring at Instagram open on my computer screen. I kept thinking of things I wanted to talk about and how I was going to spread them out. Then I just came to the conclusion that I wasn't going to completely spread out these kinds of posts. I was just going to full on embrace them because, well, they make me happy. I like rambling. I apologize for it a lot, but usually my rambles have some sort of point to them eventually. 

It's like when you're reading a really long book and you kind of lose focus in the middle because you're trying to just get to the conclusion at the end but somehow end up a little lost but then you get to the end and that lightbulb goes off? Or when you write a really fucking long run on sentence and just embrace it even if you aced all of your English and journalism courses in high school and college and at one point wanted to get paid to be a good writer with fantastic technical skills? Yeah, clearly I threw all of that education out the window and decided that I was going to make my own rules. 

In conclusion, what I'm trying to say is that you're stuck with me and my rambling for a while. I go through phases with my blog, just as I do with everything in my life (fashion, trends, men, the usual). My epiphany struck me and I have no choice but to ride the wave of what my heart and head want right now. Which, if we're being honest, is a trough of iced coffee at all times of day, a never-ending supply of bagels, and then these ~think piece~ blog posts in which I can just be unequivocally myself.

Cool? Cool.

Dress: Zara

Shoes: Tahari

Sunglasses: Miu Miu