What English sounds like to foreigners.
So I went through my closet and drawers today looking for my old gameboy color.. good lord, it was like cracking open a time machine.
Sometimes, my tumblr becomes terribly neglected and I long for the days when I sporadically updated my blog. Oh, that never happened?
The truth is, I love my life and I think it’s incredibly interesting. However, I have no source for interesting tumblr posts and most of my pictures are sent from my phone when I have been abusing substances.
If my name was Molly, I’d name my tumblr “blogging molly”. I was totally stoked about thinking of this idea all on my own, but I googled the title anyway. Turns out the first result is a blog that is actually really interesting: http://mollyprentiss.blogspot.com/
I’m secretly dreading going home for Christmas break. I’ve grown accustomed to my Philadelphia life, and everybody here has practically become my family- one could even say they take up the majority of my life. But I know I’ll love seeing my biological family and the handful of friends I still stay in touch with.
In reality, I’m either one of two things: way more interesting than I give myself credit for, or way more awkward than I give myself credit for. I do my own thing, and I know that makes me somewhat interesting and somewhat awkward at the same time. But does one outweigh the other? I have no idea.
Sometimes I consider what it would like to be a writer. I have this tumblr, but I mostly post random stumblings of mine and at times I think of it as a lame excuse to attempt writing. Truthfully, I do not and never have considered myself to be an extraordinary writer. I’ve always read a lot, from the day I could pick out words, and I think this contributes greatly to how I write (not that I write very often). To sum it up, I feel like a decent writer. I know I’m better than average, but I am nowhere near astounding. However, I feel like there’s a chance for me to learn and improve.
I never truly know what I am. Usually I just settle on “I’m just me”, but once in a while it doesn’t seem good enough. Some days I want to be girly, some days I want to be brutal. Some days I want to be incredibly chic, and others I want to be grungy and make it work. In fact, some days I just want to be everything.
It seems like I want to travel the world for the reason above. It’s not that I want to be everything, I want to experience everything and understand how it is. Can you ever truly understand something if you can’t fully experience it? And can you not fully experience it unless you are it?
Now this is getting too complex. If I don’t stop now, I’ll never stop. Holy shit, it’s 7:40 am and I have gotten absolutely no sleep tonight. Good night.. er.. morning, all!
adventures at fresh grocer..
