The Resurrection Post

I’ve abandoned the psychotic habits of sharing the ramble-tones of my everyday existence in the format of ups, downs, and all-over-the-places. Lately, the realm of adulthood has consumed me and my stress levels, making me wonder how I’m still managing to roll around the earth, free of a heart-attack, or possibly something worse - let’s save this six-month history book for the brighter days ahead. I feel that the time has come to resurrect this blog.

In case you are unfamiliar with my story-times, I’d like to remind you that I’m anything but ordinary, and the fifteen-thousand-dollar wheelchair I drive has little to do with it. My goals in life are somewhere over the rainbow as we type, and yet I am genuinely convinced, that one of these days, I will take over the world be the happiest girl alive.

Even if I tried to be, I am not like most people. I am easily bored, and I take pride and excitement in dissecting you piece by piece to unveil the depths of your mind. For this reason, I also happen to be single, but on the occasion that I am not single, I am probably and wholeheartedly consumed by a son of a b****  as sane as I am.

Last year, I transformed the mall into my place of worship and filled my closet with the sparkly, shiny, never-ending collection of clothes, but I’m pleased to type I’ve changed my ways, and these days, my time is invested in understanding people, and mastering the art of conversation.

I am somewhere in my early twenties, but am nothing like the others. I fill my evenings with jazz and philosophy, accompanied by a glass of red wine, while I lay on the sofa with the peachy walls surrounding me, in nothing but a towel. I have this theory that I’m the goddess of words, and every now and then, I believe it too.

I’m inspired by the city, as I always have been – the crazy, chaotic city filled with the bad-asses that roam it - restlessly. I’m inspired by the quality of conversation when it’s skillfully structured, and I’m inspired by the frigid air of winter, just as it greets my skin, mid-way through November.

I’m inspired by particular odds against me, but above everything else, I’m inspired by the look on your face as you delve deeper and deeper into my pleasantly eccentric mind.

Welcome. Yes, I am back.