This song 'Club can't handle me' by Flo Rida is such a feel good song, I tell you.

Until twenty minutes ago, I wasn't in good spirits. Mind you, I had every reason not to be. For one, it's a Friday night and I'm stuck at home. When I say that I do not mean that I have to go out every Friday, I just mean I had somewhere to go this Friday and ended up not going. Why you ask? Well, say hi to my wonderful parents. My extremely understanding mother rather, who believes that the only way I will listen is if she detracts my already restricted freedom. Let me tell you, it doesn't work. In fact, it only results in me becoming more of an arrogant rebel. Of course, that is not to say I'm proud of being such an unregenerate person or anything. Anyway, after being lectured and all of that jazz, I turned to my faithful friend. Food. See, this is why losing weight is SUCH a pain. I mean bingeing is only the best cure for every problem in the world. Or so I thought until I had too much chocolate and had to keep from throwing up. Then I sat down to watch Glee. What could possibly go wrong now I asked myself. Twenty minutes into the sing song sit com and it started to rain, which resulted in some 'signal' issue and hence a completely blank, blue screen (bloody Tata Sky I tell you). I got up in a huff and decided to get on facebook only to be greeted by some stupid suggestion that said something about 'connecting' with a certain someone. It's like hello, I know you're trying to help, but can you just mind your own freakin' business and NOT tell me who to try and re-establish contact with? (God, the irony a social networking website can rub in your face!)

At this point, I figured a little music would help to calm my tempestuous mental frame. Which is when I found this song and instantly felt better. In fact, I started to smile and did a little happy jig which went on to become  a full on fist-pumping-jumpy-type-dance. I know, I know, I'm so fickle you want to shoot me. Hell, I'm so fickle, I want to shoot me.

Sad story. Sigh.

I'm back to my old ways, as you can clearly tell from my newest template choice.
The plan was to make it even darker, except my best friend convinced me otherwise. See, that's the thing about loving someone as if they are a part of you (corny I know, but YOU do not get to pass judgement, thankyouverymuch), you forget what it is like to think for yourself and make your own decisions. I can't remember the last time I did something without running it by her. Or asking her what she thought. Hell, breathing would be a question too, if it weren't for the fact that it is, well, involuntary. Yes, we are pretty damn scary that way (especially if you don't know us very well) and no I don't expect you to know what it feels like. Because frankly? I don't know that many people who can be best friends, confidants, lovers (ahem) and family all at the same time. (You can stop getting your panties in a bunch, I was only kidding about the lovers bit *cough*)
Anyway, my point being that she is such an integral part of, well, everything I do that it is not a wonder that SHE is the one I pester for an hour when I need an appropriate backdrop. Even if that means changing it every two seconds and asking her to refresh her page every five. Now, I'm aware I sound completely spineless owing to my obvious dependency issues. Well, what can I say?
'My best friend is better than yours, so stick that in your juice box and suck on it'
Yep. That pretty much sums it up.

I've only JUST discovered I have a fetish for notebooks. Now, I'm not talking about those boring, unattractive ones that you want to avoid writing in and throw away on account of how unappealing they are in terms of visual appearance. No. I'm talking about those colourful-draw-your-attention kind of notebooks. The ones you just HAVE to have the moment you lay your eyes on them. Those just make me happy.
Anyway, after this sudden realization, I made a rough estimation of how many I own and there were easily over a 25! And you'd think I'd have this certain fancy for an item of stationary figured out a long time ago. Oh well, now, I have another thing to add to my already long list of potential birthday/Christmas presents.

Let me just tell you, it excites me. The idea of fancy notebooks I mean.

The problem is we expect too much. Expect to be understood without saying a thing, expect to be given what we want without asking for it, expect to have the other person think of us before themselves, expect, expect and then expect some more. The truth is, ALL that comes out of this tireless anticipation is, lets face it, NOTHING.
"As soon as you stop wanting something, you get it" said Andy Warhol. You know what? He was absolutely right.


Espouse the above (quote) and you shall not be disappointed.

Not too long ago, I began my journey on a different path. I say different because in many ways, it was new to me. This one consisted of lesser pain, lesser hurdles and fewer complications. Or so I thought.
What I did not realize was that as I was moving forward, trying to find my way and pursuing what we call ‘happiness’, I was changing. About half way through, I stopped. I turned around and retraced my steps. Yes, I was content. Yes, I couldn’t remember the last time I let someone in enough to grieve after they left. And yes, I had become stronger. Funny enough, as I looked closer, I found it hard to recognize this person I had become. I couldn’t understand how I had moved forward and yet strayed from the course I believed in. I stood there and I thought about it and it came to me. I was too afraid to face life knowing that there was a state called permanence. Permanence and commitment, to me, meant finality and THAT meant hurt. Instead of dealing with it, I changed. I hid my vulnerable side. I went about life with the sole purpose of not getting wounded. And surely enough, I forgot myself to this entirely new exterior I created. I broke out of my reverie and turned back to face the course that lay ahead of me. It was simple. All I had to do was abandon my fear and find what I truly wanted, even if that meant getting a little bruised along the way.

The pursuit of happiness is about living life on your own terms. It is standing up for what you believe in. It is letting yourself feel and not worrying about the consequences. Temporary comes and goes. At the end of the day, you need stability. You need permanent. You need defined. And THAT is how I want to finish my journey down this now conversant path.