yellow socks.

Does your heart ever abandon your chest to shake it's head with dissatisfaction at the state of your life? Pleading you to fill it's discontent with some pleasurable uncertainty. Coaxing you to stray from your constant routine of conventional motions, and for just a moment, feel erratic. These are the moments in life that I live for, the outbursts of ambition that remind you that your entire life is ahead of you. That you are insuppressible, unstoppable and 100% original. That in reality, your impetuous choices and accidental adventures, are what make your life fill to the very fullest. I say, listen to your heart. This is your life. Create a story that someone can feel inspired by when you die. 

Happy Sunday lovely people. The average person lives through 4,515 Monday's in their whole life, don't waste 4,515 chances to change the world just because it's Monday. Get some sleep, and start your week with a smile.

Who are you? This was a question that used to intimidate me. Like if I didn't have the right answer it would lead to a life long misery of mistakes and pain or something. Until I realised, that no one is you. No one can take you away from yourself, you are the person you decide to be in this very second, you cannot be defined. Not by a word, an action, a choice. Not by a mistake or an achievement. Who you are today, may not be the person you are tomorrow. In fact, I challenge you to change the utmost amount possible, in the next 24 hours. Because it’s not about who you are, it’s about the experiences you collect trying to answer that question.  

I guess it's not just my taste in clothing that has hit a modernistic dead- end and fluctuated backwards in a quick rush of a decade or three. In fact, lately I find myself re-living cinematic phenomenons such as the revolution of Heath Ledger, and The Breakfast Club, and singing iconic lyrics like 'life in the fast lane' and 'Bye, bye Miss American Pie.' Because in reality, it was the day songs were no longer about purpose, love or peace, and began the downwards spiral towards 'doof, doof' that the music truly died.