Dreaming Impossible Things [Taylor Swift]

Shades

Pictured to the right (or if you have the Wattpad mobile app, up here^) are the gorgeous yellow Keds included in the story. I have a pair, and they're fabulous.

~

Shades

I look down at my Keds. Bright yellow and covered in a white sunglasses pattern, they're bright and they remind me of sunshine. My heart leaps for joy upon the simple positive note in my day, and I smile at the thought; sunshine. Sunshine is something I've become recently reacquainted with.

I look around and marvel at the splendour before me. The evergreen around me is everlasting and magical, and I find myself pulling out my journal from my vintage briefcase-style handbag. My journal is a brown hardcover notebook and the inside covers have collages of Polaroid photos Caitlin and Liz have taken during The Red Tour, rehearsals and otherwise. Most of those pictures have captured us either laughing in my kitchen with pumpkin pie all over us or dancing in our printed cartoon pjs, but a few, thankfully, are sane, professional (but incredibly nerdy and dorky) pictures of our pre-show rituals which include doing our own hair and makeup together in front of the mirror with Kendrick Lamar or Lorde blasting from Liz's iPod Dock and standing in the band circle chanting our famous pep phrase, "Never forget the essence of your spark!", which became established during the Fearless tour years ago. I miss all the tours and adventures we've been on throughout the years, and I wish I could go back and experience it all over again. I wouldn't change a thing. With a new album on my hands and recording in the studio left, right and centre, I haven't had time to blink and take in what I've accomplished and achieved.

On the lines within the journal are quotes from inspirational people I look up to, like Shirley Temple and C.S Lewis. In terms of my own material, the book holds both old and new lyrics, all the way from back in mid 2009 when I was working on Speak Now all by myself. I've only ever had two journals, and the first is dated from way back in my preteen years when I first began composing and writing. The book holds so many memories for me, good and bad, and I'm glad that I actually listened to Mom's advice for once and kept the old one, even though some of my old work is beyond embarrassing.

In between the lines of the book are the messages and morals within my songs. Every song has a purpose, and while most are, I'll admit, based on my life, some are based on my observations both as an artist and the tall, blonde, ordinary girl with a guitar from Pennsylvania who grew up on a Christmas tree farm with her mother, father and little brother.

Lately I've been feeling the weight of the world being lifted from my shoulders, and I feel light and ready to walk with my head held high. I feel strong, and I've been blessed with motivation. Even after the buzz of The Red Tour I don't feel drained and I don't feel like I need something to give me that one last push before I jet off again into the world, to share my music, life experiences, observations, stories and mistakes with everyone. I don't feel like I need rest. I'm excited and so very ready to get started again, with an entirely new book this time, instead of a new chapter. Even those who don't want to listen will eventually hear. And I'm okay with that, more than okay, because I've found a way to shut all their hurtful comments out and move on with my life. If they don't like me being me, I'll be me more. I do my own thing, and as long as the people I love - family, friends and fans alike - want me to keep writing and playing and pretending and singing and awkwardly dancing at award shows and being inspirational to young people, then I'll be there. Without a doubt I will always be there, as long as they want me to be.

So maybe one way of putting it is saying that I've found some sunglasses to shade my eyes from the cynics and almost blur them out. These magical shades aren't strong enough to dull the light and magic that my fans, friends and family shine in, thankfully, but they make me stronger and they make me feel comfortable in my skin.

I take off my literal shades and start jotting down random phrases that come to my head. They begin to naturally rhyme and the words chime together like clinking, twinkling decorations outside some people's houses on their front porch. The syllables work, it all flows together, and I know that I am in the right peace of mind to do this. I have not forced the muse in myself, she is simply letting it all go, and I'm going with the flow. Most of these ideas come from recent acknowledgement or discoveries, and where I am with my life right now, and because it's real to me, it draws close to my heart.

I've cut my hair. Moved to New York. Found myself. These things, I once thought I would never do. But I did.

By the end of the hour while I'm waiting for Paul to finish up with his car, I'm at the end of a song about friendship that will last. The kind of relationship where the people will never leave your side, never abandon you. I know this song will teach younger people everywhere to be grateful for the friends and family they have, and to cherish every moment and keep doing what they love with a passion so strong until the earth stops spinning. I know that this will remind them to never forget that people are there for them, and that they've always got somebody to lean on. Because in the end, we are never truly alone.

Satisfied I've at least vaguely made my point and recorded all valuable ideas, I let out a long exhale. I know I need to edit this material, but for now I'm happy with it. When the time is right I will come back and I'll have another view or perspective to look at it from, so I'll be able to get absolutely everything out of it.

I yawn and close the book, shoving it back into my bag. I pull my shades back down onto my nose and reapply my bold red lipstick, and smooth out my white dress, knowing Paul will be out any second.

When Paul does come towards me with his car keys in hand, I smile. He is a sight for sore eyes. "Car's done. Ready for guitar shopping?"

I beam, happy to see the shiny intrigue and excitement in his eyes at the word 'guitar'. His guitars are like his best friends, and I can't wait to help him find one that makes him as happy to hear and play as his last one. I hope I can find him a nice glittery pink one with Swarovski crystals that he'll love just as much as the sparkly red electric guitars that we had made for The Red Tour.

So as we enter the store filled with smooth, expensive, steel string guitars, I take one last look at both my sunglasses and my patterned Keds to remind me of the sunshine that has always been in my life and still remains in my life before I am windswept into the magical atmosphere that is a musician's kingdom filled with loyal subjects.