I'm such a collector! I know very well thats just a polite way of saying 'Hoarder of Junk'. I have the new, the old, the nostalgic, the forgotten, the misplaced-all memorablia hidden away-piling up from my 18 years on Earth. They're in some way important to me. They may seem utterly useless but they have one purpose in my life. To remind me of the good times. I know you may say that the brain is better than any memory box (Junk box) you'll ever keep-with its endless space and cognitive func.....blah blah blah blah. But I need my memory to be gently nudged to a dusty old corner of the archives in my brain that it hasn't been to in a while. It makes me feel-without sounding too cliche-warm inside. (Whoever came up with that phrase is feelin it if you get my drift.)
I don't care what Feng Shui says. I like my 'junk'(Do not confuse with dirty BEP song...yuck) Its pulled me through dark days and I will pull it through my life till i decide that leaving it behind is imperative, even if that means accumulating enough junk to fill the Bay of Bengal till the time comes to part with it. Here ends my little thought. Ciao munchkins!
Neutiquam erro. Just directionally challenged.
Followers
I guffawed (and 'eew'ed) at
- "A woman's dress should be like barbed wire- restricted access with an unrestricted view"
- Ed Byrne
- Graham Norton's one liner "Children are a bit like farts, in that people like their own."
How much is that doggie in the window?
- Wickedcookie
- I'm funny, when I'm in the right company. I'm pretty much normal(much to the dismay of myself and a few family members, who i shall not name) My most distinct characteristic is probably my obsession with buying books. *sarcasm* Whoo-pee
Mine mine mine!
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Whats on my mind
McFly. Like all the time. i kid you not.
How else i could spend my time.
whether people in seventeenth century England were ever clean.
how much time it would take before i can see the Sistine Chapel.
whether time travel is possible and when i can have a go at it.
whether Cassanova was as cute as they say he was
whether freelancing is my thing
Labels
Rome
I'm obsessed with this place
Useless Metaphors that i am unashamedly proud of.
- Tears are like flavours from 'Lays' . Unless there are onions involved, they're just no fun.
- Sweat is like an AC. It cools you down like heck but its always like a big ol elephant in the room.
- Stationery is to a writer what antlers are to the Ibex.
Bubble thoughts
Correct me if I’m wrong but I think it is impossible to look pretty whilst scuba diving. Your mouth is wrapped around this big plastic nozzle thing, you can’t take it out unless suicide is on your list and the refractive qualities of water really don’t do you any further good. The nozzle in your mouth, your eyes wide open because of everything that you’re getting to see at that moment. That just makes you look like a fish on land- gasping forair with a gory-ish, surprised look on your face. I mean, seriously, the fish look better than you do at that point in time. In fact, the fish are laughing at you.
Sometimes I am walking down the road or sitting in a room and I happen to hear a part of a conversation between two complete strangers. Now this isn’t all that strange given that it happens to most of us and also that my eavesdropping skills are honed beyond belief. What is strange though is that I completely and utterly relate to what they are saying; like it’s a conversation out of my life. It makes me feel all warm n fuzzy about the human race.
Sometimes I am walking down the road or sitting in a room and I happen to hear a part of a conversation between two complete strangers. Now this isn’t all that strange given that it happens to most of us and also that my eavesdropping skills are honed beyond belief. What is strange though is that I completely and utterly relate to what they are saying; like it’s a conversation out of my life. It makes me feel all warm n fuzzy about the human race.
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