I am an accidental Journalism graduate, who likes making my own life-isms.I like the smell of coffee. I believe that my soulmate's name start with letter 'D'...or until Brandon Boyd comes to my senses.(there's a rumor that he's a bisexual...he's still hot).
My greatest dream is to write a book about my family who will surely disown, sue, or murder me after the said book's publication.
Right now I'm going through quarter-life crisis. I'm a confused girl and a seriously deflated writer. Adding to my professional let down is a "love" of my life that's just not into me. But I work hard (though sometimes I think I'm in the wrong job) and party harder.
I have a beer-marinated face atleast twice a week.When im sober, i dont drink my blues away, i just postpone them atleast for another night. Now i learned that in drinking, the key is knowing when to stop- maintaining the high without the aftermath. (fuck this line, everybody wants to get wasted.)
I like venting out my frustrations in life through cigarettes and stupid conversations.I like hanging out with my friends in my apartment where as soon as you open the door, the waft of cigarette smoke attacks...i just let it, i stand there and suck in a deep breath....but i dont do drugs, atleast when im not around potheads.
I believe that life is neither cruel nor joyous. It is random, full of particles hurtling, chemicals mixing and reacting. There is no real order. Chaos, baby, its all about chaos.
But i am indeed happy, which scares the hell out of me, because the good is fragile. The good is so flimsy, so tenous, that it can be destroyed with a gentle puff.
Ask me anything