on a cold rainy morning

i'm thinking:

wet hummus on a cold heavily-raining morning smells delightful.

sometimes familiarity breeds contempt, as much as absence makes the heart grow fonder.

sometimes i just wanna be alone. just for awhile. just to discover who i am.

sometimes i hate being a woman. sometimes i wish i were a man.

sometimes i whine so much, i'm disgusted with me.

i need a holiday. badly.

soft light cotton against the skin feels so darn comfy.

i wanna stay in bed. and do things on 400-threadcount sheets. because it's cold. and it's so wet outside. and i'd rather, much rather stay home in bed where it's warm, and where dreams are made.

i think i need to get back to a place where i can see trees that grow naturally, not get planted to give the place an ornamental look. what's happened to a beauty that's wild and wildly natural? i crave for that.

i'm tired. of many many things. of this fragile glittery superficial place most of all. it makes me shallow. it changes me. what if i don't recognise myself anymore if i stay here too long?

i think too goddamn much. and i speak my mind too goddamn much. i should just shut the fuck up sometimes.

i think i'm pms-ing. :(