just! so many centuries! i should have been born in!

am i the only one who wants to be a celtic maiden somedays, running through the moor with my cape and hair trailing a foot behind me, mist clawing high as my shoulders, cliffside and forest looming out of the shade?

or perhaps a 1920s beauty, all sequins and glittering eyes and nightclubs, laughing and dancing because the war’s over, a new age has begun, because i can?

but just think of being a retro 70’s girl, with records and instant cameras and bootleg pants paired with poofy bomber jackets that really should never have been in style. milkshake dates, neon lights, just. 70s.

but there’s also urban girls, all tough lipstick and leather jackets, lounging in alleys with a warning on their face, walking down city streets like they have their name carved into the cement, forced confidence (or is it?), leaving you second guessing and wanting to stay.

but working girls! in 1899! starting a resistance and changing the world, fighting tooth and nail and pen to write their way out. perhaps a journalist, dreaming of going big-city and writing for renowned papers. making a living for herself, making a life for others, not going down in the history books with her name on the cover, but with all other women who fought for their rights as one.

and there’s also the small town girl, the one content to stay, to maybe make this little part of her world a little bit better. who owns a bookstore and a couple cats, who reads all through the day and goes for starlit walks on her own at night—no streetlights in this little town. and one day she meets a city boy at a coffee shop, and she swears it’s just like a hallmark movie but she doesn’t even care, and maybe now she’s not so content to live out the rest of her life with no adventure.

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