The XX's music was our soundtrack, and as my room became more clouded with the perfume of scented candles, we snapped away photos with my Nikon who has been underused lately. 
     There's nothing better than turning teal blue eyeliner from my trashy-teenage-girl stage into Indian war paint, celebrating the natural wildness of my hair, and igniting candles that turned my room into a sanctuary. I wore cotton, because cotton breathes and I just felt like breathing. I admire the sort of style that comes with hipsters; when wearing striped pajama shorts becomes socially acceptable and wearing very little clothing does not have the connotation of being slutty. 
     Lately, I've been just tired. So tired. 
     But I started listening to The XX a couple of days ago and I've fallen in love with them. I've never loved a band this much since Beirut. Their debut album is simply breathtaking, and their music is perfect for traveling, sleeping, tanning, or music to put you in the mood to do something creative. 
     Perhaps I got inspiration from The XX's music, perhaps I just went through a dry-period of no creativeness. Whatever it was, I got my groove back. Then again, I don't have to exist outside of this place.

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