gone wandering, no more

Close your eyes and imagine the best version of you possible. That’s who you really are, let go of any part of you that doesn’t believe it.

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If you’ve been with me for the last three years of my blogging life, you’ll know that this move is a little bit more significant than it should be.

My baby steps trace back to my Blogger days when I was still so terrible in English; and back when I had the decency to censor foul words. Heh.

A total of three years, that’s how long I’ve held on to Gone in Wanderland and Gone Wandering. Sooner or later, I’d realize that gone in wanderland is a horrible grammar fiasco but then, I stuck with it because hey, the blog was much of a mess as the blogger.

Back then, all I wanted was to have an outlet where I could pour my heart out (yes, there was a point in my life that I had an actual beating heart like any other human being). I was fresh off of college, still so idealistic about the real world. The term “gone in wanderland” was coined based on the fairy tale that pretty much sums up the life I’ve lived since I started realizing that it isn’t really that easy growing up—Alice in Wonderland. This world is my version of the rabbit hole that Alice fell into; and that’s mostly because since grade school days, I’ve felt like my whole life is always on a state of limbo.

At some point between age 13 and 15, I remember quoting Alice’s exact same quote pertaining to my life in general, “It would be nice if something made sense for a change.”

Gone in Wanderland was a perfect blog name, albeit grammatically incorrect.

However, gone in wanderland has run its course. The girl who thought about that blog name is long gone.

Gone in Wanderland is exhausted and now, I’m giving her something the world never bothered to—a break. Gone in Wanderland holds three years of wasted potential, dreams that never came true, and relationships that never worked out. Along with gone in wanderland goes the girl who spent all her life trying to silence the voices in her head that told her she’s not enough.

Long story short, I’m putting to rest the version of me that never quite believed in me; the version of me who’s idea of love is so carefully constructed because my own father didn’t love me enough to stay. An author once said, “Close your eyes and imagine the best version of you possible. That’s who you really are, let go of any part of you that doesn’t believe it.”

Chasing Wanderland Final

Chasing Wanderland is about the chase, vaguely so. Chasing Wanderland is my attempt to love the parts of me that no one claps for.

Chasing Wanderland isn’t a beginning; it’s what happens when you realize that your life is just series of endless rabbit holes to fall into.

Don’t get me wrong. Part of gone in wanderland is still in me. I still have my doubts and my days still feel like a giant mess sometimes but Chasing Wanderland is the person gone in wanderland needed.

Over the last few months, I’ve constantly reminded myself to become the person I needed when I was younger—someone tougher, someone who knows how to get a grip, and best of all, someone who loves herself enough to believe that she doesn’t have to be tormented by everyone’s reaction to her.

I’m not any better than I was but letting gone in wanderland rest is my way of paying respects to the girl who has wounds the size of Texas.

Chasing Wanderland is my search, the chase, for something like fire or even just something that might fuel something inside. I’m mostly dead, really; I guess life has a way of toughening us but there’s this tiny spark of hope somewhere that wants to believe that someday, I get to wake up and everything isn’t as horrible.

I have lost and loved and won and cried myself to the person I am today.

Long live, gone in wanderland. This is ours now; and as per the Sara Bareilles song that inspired the title: always be chasing the sun.

Should you need to read my previous entries, you may browse it here or browse my archives.

Author: Lora Dee

Proof that a degree in Communication doesn't make anyone less awkward; music taste ranges from the very first Britney Spears album to Arcade Fire and Haim but does not include Justin Bieber and One Direction; favorite poet is me because everyone is a poet when they're sad enough.

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