2015 came quicker than expected

I'd just like to start off by blaming senior year for the fact that I never posted, not even once, during the entirety of 2014. That's crazy, this blog is nearing it's five year anniversary (HOLY SHIT) and yet in the last year I have posted absolutely 0 times... Congrats almost adult Leyla, this is your childhood legacy... Honestly the reason I came on here is because I wrote a somewhat extremely sentimental piece of theatre this past weekend and really needed somewhere to put it. This blog popped into my head, and with it came an entire flow of memories and disastrous emotional recollections and here I am, sitting on the floor at midnight revisiting the (horrible, awful, cringe-worthy) posts that used to take up a large amount of my time on here. Back in the good old days of middle school, almost five years ago. Damn time goes by quickly. And to think I only have 95 days of High School left? So yeah, trip down memory lane complete, and let me confirm that it was absolutely horrible. Anyways, I'm not here to explain my absence or even to tell you that I am going to start blogging again. I would love to, I really would, but knowing how the last few times I made this promise went I know it's one I won't be making again for a few more months. That being said, I am here to promise you that I haven't forgotten about you, blog.
Yes, I am addressing you, you five year old piece of pixelated images and shitty text posts. You who has lived through some of my most traumatic moments of middle school, when anything is a disaster. You who has kept a record of all my most precious (and probably most useless) stories. And you, who is still here with me even five years later, and one year after it seemed I had given up on you. It's just nice to feel a little bit at home right here I guess. The blogger dashboard has a certain cozy, familiar feeling to me even after all these years. So yeah, you still hold a special place in my mind little blog. So much so that I am personifying you it seems. But onto what I came here to do. Without further ado, here is my monologue on the importance of art. Hopefully whoever reads this enjoys (Looking at you future me)

I’ve spent a lot of time just… walking around I guess. Aimlessly, carelessly, without a goal or purpose. Or at least that’s what I used to think. But I guess I do have a purpose, don’t I? Cause I get to witness the things that aren’t always meant to be witnessed. I see all those doodles and drawings you scribbled in the margins of your unanswered math homework as you lay asleep at your desk. I hear your beautiful melodies that are only ever accompanied by the incessant drumming of your showerhead, never allowed to be heard by the open air. I have been to your dance studio, where you dreams lay shattered on the floor like broken glass next to your forgotten point shoes. And I know all this because I am you. I am the boy with the heart on his sleeve and the smile on his cheeks and the tear on his face. I am the girl with the bun in her hair and that humming in the air that sends electricity crackling through her veins. I am the artist who wasn’t allowed to create.

I am the singer whose song was silenced

I am the dancer whose dream was destroyed

I am the actor who audience was abolished

I am the musician whose melody was muffled

BUT

I am an artist, no matter what they have done to me.

xoxoxo,

Loulou

(I've still fucking got it!)