Can we talk about real talk? I'm fairly sure that I've mentioned these two words at least 3.7 million times. It's my first language, after all! But a quick rundown helps us all figure out what's up.

At it's core, Real talk (n.) is the art of straight up communication. It's a fast departure from linguistic eloquence, guarded pretenses, and even/often politeness too. It falls somewhere at the crossroads between forthright honesty x uninhibited authenticity. Friends are a necessity of this situation. Because duh.

All this to say that real talk is clutch but ironically rare. Our day-to-day words are forever in masquerade. They ensure that we aren't too blunt, too clueless, too politically incorrect, too judged, too "basic," too in danger of hurting others' feelings, too frivolous, too awwwwwwwkwaaaard.

It's nothing short of A WHOLE LOT to consider, no? Real talk is our respite from it all. It's our dance-like-nobody's-watching form of conversation!

Side note: Donuts are a prerequisite of this discussion. That's just life on the real....because Sunday // because September.

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So let's do this dance! I've been thinking about illusions lately. What you see vs. what you get.

The above photos of my desk, friends, and food are an honest illusion. It's my admission to you that behind every pretty picture is a pajama-clad HOT MESS. (That's me!) Perspective, please--here's what's hanging out in my thoughts:

Social media is a poignant example. We've put ourselves on constant camera, on mic, on tape. Oy vey, dude! Selective portrayal has become a really unreal phenomenon. These thoughts of a millenial (not me) on social media bubbled up from my bookmarks, see: A 20-something's Take on Social Media.
Beauty intrigues me. And I still haven't quite figured out whether to consider makeup a help or hindrance to that. This Ted Talk by a makeup artist adds a few thoughts to the equation. Because we're in the business of real talk: I honestly do wonder if a wild streak of vanity is responsible for my curiosity.
Let's breakdown the why of FUCK YES. A good chuckle and an even better thought piece. It's a superb argument for why the grey area isn't really so illusory. Relationships happen to be the topic, but I'd argue that it applies to this whole dang shabang we call life.
I've taken precisely 2 ballet classes in my life. And dear god, it may've been the definition of comedy. But the NYC Ballet Company surprised me with this intersection of tragedy and art. Illusion of 9/11 rebirth in the best way. Not just for the dance-inclined. Give 'er a watch (or two)!
Vanity Fair's announcement of The New Establishment 2014 felt funky. Or I didn't know how to feel about it? Two realizations: the list is reeeeeeeal heavy on tech and reeeeeeeal light on women.
Joy, whose corner of the Internet I absolutely love, reposted "Eating: A Manifesto." Hey ladies & gents! It's important. Really, really important. Skinny is a weighty subject and an even weightier illusion. But the truth is, guilty doesn't look good on anybody. Let it go; let it flow.

In other news, I haven't even touched my homework. But well...I'm afraid that the future will have to wait. I've been too busy dancing like the 2:27pm still-pajama-clad crazy fool that I currently am. Whoa nelly. This confession is upfront, unapologetic, and just a tad awkkkkwarrrrd.