Online shopping is the best; when you get the parcel and you slice up the tape with a paper cutter and there are ~things~ inside; its like you got a present but it came from you ^_^



IMG_20140514_222223My hands are crisscrossed with scars from my cat’s claws, and I’ve spent all my poetry in making her beast eyes mean something. They say, ‘no matter how much you feed the wolf, it keep looking back towards the forest’. Lost cats are like lost chances and failed exams – the panic of missing a step, and falling down, down, down, just like in that one movie I saw when I was seven – the knowledge that this is a calamity waiting to happen. For now, we tuck into each other, a feline and a girl. One vibrating with contentment, the other just dying to change places.

The nights always get away from me. I look at the broken digital clock I stole from someone, and it could be saying 8.10 or 3.49. I go with whichever possibility makes my stomach swoop with guilt. That’s usually how I know the right answer to everything – the certainty of having missed it, again.

If I Were a Boy

A list of things I’d do, for the joy of it.

1. I’d shave with a straight razor, or get a shave with a straight razor. I’m assuming I’ll be the type to grow a beard quickly, so there is a satisfying rasp as the stubble is shaved off. All the men I ever saw sitting back at the barbershop, getting shaved, had a look of such utter zen on their faces, that I’ve wanted to get a shave forever; even if that means having bits of shaving foam stuck behind my ears.

2. I’d scratch myself in public transport without shame; and I don’t mean I’d go straight for the crotch – being a girl, even scratching your side is unacceptable. Any sort of scratching is unacceptable, period, because girls are not supposed to itch.

3. I’d stare at boys in utter abandon, and hopefully not start any “What’re you lookin’ at?” fights.