Hard knock life.

If your name just so happens to be Naveena, I just so happen to love you :)

We make plans to kiss the sun at midnight.

My parents are so awesome, they grow weed in our garden.
Whoops, I meant weed grass.

Without a nautical-striped shirt

The velvet curtains are opening. I catch sight of a gap, unveiling the stage I will stand upon in society. How do I even attempt to prove my worthiness to the judges of my future? No, wait, close the curtains, I am unprepared! No no, beyond the boundary of possibilities, the show must go on. Time itself, the curtains never cease. However brief the time I possess, I attempt to recall, remember routines I have worked tirelessly to prepare. Oh what routines? For there is no routine which can sustain, uphold me through life awaiting me once the curtains open. For I am ill-fated to participate in a competition of impromptu acting. Unrehearsed, unscripted, unstudied, all is improvised. On this stage, completely and utterly vulnerable I am. Moments left, shall I run? Run, making futile efforts to escape my future? For I just had an unfortunate revelation of the fact which has eluded me for so long until today; stage fright.

But this was an evanescence,

Like intertwining vines my thoughts are. With consciously futile attempts to untangle them, them so delicate and distant. One misguided step, all goes awry. The branches of my mind breaking and tearing away, losing all original thought.
And here I am, trying to remember what I have forgotten.

Pancake Batter Anomaly;

My parents went out for the whole day today. So,
Cereal for breakfast. Cereal for lunch. Cereal for dinner.
Yumm.

A Lack of Colours.

Here's a picture of a bug on my bathroom door.

Knock yourself out. Cause I did :)

Face the shiz. Spain will win!

Exaggerate these vespertine moods;

Here's a picture of a branch to entertain you while I have a panic attack.
You know those days you have where everything just doesn't seem to go right? Yeah, well, I think I'm going to have a day like that tomorrow.
Gut feeling, I tell you.

Raw&Revealing.

There are two things my dad tells me constantly;
One, that I am beautiful. (Now don't you go "Aww" just yet.)
Two, that I am the absolute splitting image of him. (I don't see it, but he's managed to convince himself that I do. Delusional I say.)

But you see, here's the problem, I can't seem to figure out if he's saying I'm beautiful because I look like him or that he's just playing the part of a genuine father. In the end, I finally made up my mind believing that my father is a criminal mastermind. Over the years, he's found a way to compliment himself regularly without any consequence. So everytime he tells me I'm beautiful, I now know his true intentions. I'm on to you Daddy!

I joke :) But now you know what goes on in my head at home.