I have the attention span of a toddler and a memory span of a 90 year-old all conveniently (dis)arranged in a 17-year-old wreck of a soul. I am not a noun. I seem to be a verb, an evolutionary process, an integral function of the universe. I’m simply a human fill-in-the-blank.
This will serve as my outlet and where I shall vent. This is also a place for my ramblings and my interests. I will post whatever tickles my fancy, catches my eye and flips my ship. My blog is never consistent; but expect rants, thoughts and pictures. Pictures aren't mine unless stated.
About Me x #cheeseberber
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27 / 11 / 2011
I feel like a ‘toy’, like an item.
When they wanted you, they worked hard to get you. Saved up every coin, did all their chores and homework, put in a nice word or two. Once they finally got you, they put you on their shelf at the place they made just for you. Dusted, wiped, clean, freshly painted. Everyone would come into their room and they’d point at you and say how great you were and how lucky they were to have gotten you, how you were one of a kind.
Time passed by and I became less important. I’m just there to collect dust, next to the other insignificant items. That’s how I feel like - an item, neglected one. Now, I’m nothing.
