This blog: I ramble. So does this blog. If you're looking for profundity, it is probably well hidden and incoherent. Epiphany might be more like it.
This blog is about whatever strikes my fancy. Of late it has been about discovering the places I live in,writing for the sake of writing, growing up, relationships, trying to live a more conscious life, food, music, and the occasional fiction and poetry.
Me: My only real vices are a deep and abiding love for coffee and a propensity for hedonism and drama. I hate boxes and being told what to do. I'm somewhat of a control-freak, somewhat of a hippie, somewhat of an over-competitive, workaholic slacker. Clearly somewhat of a contradiction.
I love writing entirely too much to ever stop. I sort of want to be a psychologist when I grow up, but I also want to be a neuroscientist, a social worker, a cafe owner, a food-and-travel writer and a novelist, so there's that.
I love cats. If you love me, you should give me one. Or a book. Or cake. Or a record player.
This blog is about whatever strikes my fancy. Of late it has been about discovering the places I live in,writing for the sake of writing, growing up, relationships, trying to live a more conscious life, food, music, and the occasional fiction and poetry.
Me: My only real vices are a deep and abiding love for coffee and a propensity for hedonism and drama. I hate boxes and being told what to do. I'm somewhat of a control-freak, somewhat of a hippie, somewhat of an over-competitive, workaholic slacker. Clearly somewhat of a contradiction.
I love writing entirely too much to ever stop. I sort of want to be a psychologist when I grow up, but I also want to be a neuroscientist, a social worker, a cafe owner, a food-and-travel writer and a novelist, so there's that.
I love cats. If you love me, you should give me one. Or a book. Or cake. Or a record player.
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