I want to become a journalist. I want to find people and stories and I want pull angles out of thin air and I want to always be learning and creating and giving in a creative way. I want to be engaged and focused and excited and collaborative with a fiery passion. I want to try to understand how the world works and then I want to convey it in the words that fit.
What do I do now that I’m not good at it at all?
Have a zero/low calorie drink every time you get hungry!
Let me know if you’re interested in playing. It’s so much fun. Extra points if you mention your beverage of choice!
Warning: teeth staining may occur.
Comment number of drinks you’ve had below so we can all get super competitive!!
I’m forever floating in between acceptance and disheartenment and the will to change. Even though the last one is more like illusion, my weak spot, the previous step to my inevitable failure.
This could be about a lot of things. It is true for many. But I thought this for how I feel about my body (at that time) (like everything). (I’m way too preoccupied with my body and others).
How can you BE happy? Not a question I have an answer too, nor one I’m asking an answer for. But one I’m incredulously asking everybody. HOW can you be happy?
It’s been one good day followed by two bad ones.
There’s this quote that seems to define me right now, “What’s the point of making my bed in the morning when I’m going to sleep in it at night?”
(at least that’s what I think I was referring to because it was incomplete)
It’s like I’m underwater and I open my eyes, and everything is clear in the start (as clear as it can be under water), and then as the seconds (days) pass, my vision gets blurrier and blurrier, only getting more blurrier. Till I can’t see at all. Till I’m forced to close my eyes. Till it happens all over again.
One head of cauliflower + fruits.
Now I’m snacking on a butter sugar treat….
I hate myself.
Oh sure, I’m going to scatter things around, put up a few pictures, give all my things designated places. But then I’m going to displace them. And maybe that’s what makes it a home, more than setting one up.
Maybe it’s the one million problems that crop up, the hooks that fall, the acceptance after the grumbling when you learn where the bathroom light switch it. Maybe it’s also the lie in, rested bones digging deep in mattresses, sleepy eyes noticing how the sun falls in through the window. Maybe it’s that cookie jar, that stood beside you on the window still, for you, in your reach.
And then maybe it’s the first time forgotten food in your fridge goes spoilt. You won’t ever want to go through what comes after that realization, but sometimes it inevitable.
Some other things: when you don’t have to remind yourself to make that turn towards your house. When your desk beside your bed holds 3 midway read books. When you come home after a long day and collapse on your bed without thought. When it’s the fifth day in a week you’ve eaten noodles/ordered take-out. Maybe it’s eating on your bed, making room for your bad habits and sleeping with them (pun both intended and not). Maybe it’s day long stomach aches that keep you up and restless way past midnight and retching over the toilet bowl. And maybe it’s being taken care off, when you have a fever, too sick to give a bother to the state of yourself and the house.
It’s when you no longer speak your thoughts to the half furnished rooms, but when you sit in the living room watching TV with your thoughts scattered along with the furniture. It’s when your headspace fits and curves along the corners and edges of the house, and when you stretch your hand on autopilot to reach for your hair tie slash water bottle slash your animal soft toy.
To be honest, a lot of these are whimsical. A house to home conversion probably mostly consists of an endless string of problems till when you’re pulling out your chair without conscious thought after you think it’s finally all done (once again). But whatever, enjoy the ride/way.
They’re even better when made right. And trust me, this way is pretty right. (can confirm x2)
So I happened to have a Borders voucher..
I had ONE year to choose. And how much time did I take to choose. Apparently, EXACTLY ONE YEAR.
Here’s the story. It’s super short, give it a lil’ watch.