GIVE ME THERAPY, I'M A WALKING TRAVESTY.

twentythree y.o. geographer, barista, yoga practitioner. University College London. born and bred in the lil' island of Singapore. constantly searching for answers. extremely flawed, especially when it comes to imposing standards on others, expecting too much, not knowing when to close her mouth (to shut the fuck up or to stop eating). too crazy for her own good and has to be taken with a massive handful of salt. adores backpacking, hitch-hiking, hill-walking, red wine, whiskey, cocktails, fine food and good conversations.
REMINDER:
"open your heart. someone will come. someone will come for you. but you'd have to open your heart first."


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Tuesday, May 10, 2016
◔ 10:37 PM // ✎ 0 comment(s)		❝ Teenyweenyitsybitsy box it up, box it up ❞

I've got an incredible urge to pen down my thoughts and then proceed to stuff them into a tiny box and chuck the into a teenyweenyitsybitsy corner of my soul.

Alas, I've got little patience for that right now, when everything's in a massive mumble jumble mambo jambo in my little brain, or specifically what they term the "consciousness". To ensure that I write without comma splices, or what Paddy Clarke taught us - stream of consciousness (ha ha ha) -would probably take too much effort at this particular juncture.

Nevertheless, publishing this post to inform everyone (or no one) that this place is still alive and I've got major plans to share my photos, my thoughts, ideas, love, cuddles, happiness (or the lack thereof). Coming soonish would be photos that I rediscovered from my backpack to Spain two years ago, which turned out rather impressive considering that I took them with my wee GoPro.

Until then, and may I not descend back into darkness.

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