As of today

 

3 main joy generators:

1. I bought a beautiful loaf of maple berry wholegrain bread today which further validates my new/not-so-new pledge to consume more belly-friendly food. Plus, it has a purple tinge and I go googly-eyed for pretty colours; a trait that has landed me in financial trouble quite a number of times. Meh.

2. Upcoming festivities(!) marching into my life after what seems like eons of being mashed up like a potato in an unpleasant mixture of exhaustion and incessant loneliness. Feeling like a solid tuber now!

3. Because you're sexy and you're reading my blog.

Gum

Hip hop's always been my 1 minute bubble gum break from the world. Lyrics that make my tongue twist in loops, encumbering any sing-along fits in the car so I'm forced to sit and listen; which is (ironically) a rarity in my collection of music.  Lately I find myself fussing about everything, I'm distraught most nights (losing focus, to be precise) and all I want is something I don't think I should have, nor am I going to have for a long time.

I'm moving backwards. These desires feel so foreign yet they greet me like wafts of a familiar scent that I can't entirely put my finger on. Here's to hoping that this is just another phase.

Stupor

My happy place is a parking lot. I'm driving my Mom's old Nissan with the windows rolled down and the air is crisp, winter-like. There's nothing around me except acres of tarmac. There's also a funny-looking mountain jutting out in the backdrop just to remind me where the road ends and where the rest of the Universe begins. All I have to do here is drive and make sure that I reach the foot of the mountain before the cosmos align, after which I will become a tiny blip in Earth's history. My foot on the gas, I giddily steer.


I've been a frequent driver lately; with friends leaving the country soon, my University dragging me into the mud and a dating life brought to a complete standstill, I can't think of any other means of escape.

It's about what you don't see

Caught in the act of nail-biting. It's not that gross once you realize that it's just a subtle form of cannibalism. Right? Not gross at all.

Stu, this is for you

A friend of mine is living proof that when things go really bad, it just means something really good is on its way.

Congratulations, dude. You deserve this and don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Can't wait to listen to all of your adventures once you start flying.