Hello, i rephrased that caption for five times.
that was my fifth wish on the wishlist for him.
Had a terrible lunch at a certain restaurant today.
Went to my grandma's after that.
Rewatched ella enchanted and Anne hathway is insanely pretty #jealousmuch.
watched discovery channel afterwards, basically wasted hours on tv.
and my grandma gave me a magnum icecream, she's cool like that. ^^
seriously though, i think my grandma is really nice.
My parents are forever shaking their heads at my clothes but my grandma commented that i've a higher taste <3
hahaha no idea if she was just trying to defend me or something, but whatever i love her!
I think there'll be some crazy rant here today.
The spare time got me into a thinking frenzy.
I've to start stemming my thoughts.
Firstly, i thought of what i wanted to do when i grow up.
Tried to imagine what i might be doing in future.
I couldn't see myself sitting behind an office desk, i ended up with a picture of myself touring the world.
i figured that's what i really want to do.
I mean i still have to have a career and all, which i would probably devote to baking.
but apart from that, i think i wanna travel the world.
See the northern lights, a shooting star, get close to a lion.
Something along that line.
I pity humans.
We have a weird character.
we want to do things out of the normal routine.
we cant stand repetition.
All we want is to escape, escape from being forced by society into doing things.
Despite all the imagination of doing what we actually love, we are still confined within the four walls of society.
A man working his ass off in an office district might just want to be an artist and paint his life away.
But he cant, cause reality doesn't allow it.
Cause he wont have an income, he wont be safe, he cant do what he likes.
Isn't it sad?
That a man like that might have been a young boy of my age, dreaming of doing things he want to in future yet growing up and realising that reality does not allow him to do what he likes.
That, that might be us in a few years time.
That we will have our dreams burst like little balloons, that we will no longer have our way.
That we can no longer imagine or dream of growing up to be a doctor, pilot, writer.
That your story is written once you grow old.
---
Sorry, my mind is in a mess right nao.
Sometimes i get these sudden bubbling words that just spill out of my brain cells.
My fingers start typing like that and everything just feels woozy.
I call this the writer syndrome.
