It only took a considerable amount of time to realize that I've wasted a whole lot of months trying to conjure up just something. I wasn't too emphatic on what to post, and so, it's been a quite while (won't be discreet about it, either). I've compiled both tentative photos and short essays here and there, but nothing perservered. A shame, isn't it? Writer's block for two whole months is quintessentially sucky. Of course, you may question what I've been doing during such a debacle - well, I've been reading all kinds of emblematic novels, and have confused my own life with Hadley Richardon's (Ernest Hemingway's first wife in the novel, The Paris Wife). Hadley's life was full of intrigue, as she was married to one of the most uncanny, brilliant writers. But her world wasn't as utopic as one would think. If you must know (and I'll proceed as if you have an ounce of care), Ernest ended up cheating on Hadley with some Parisian chick. As you can fathom, I was devestated. I spent two whole months feeling a sense of disdain towards Ernest. He suddenly wasn't so revered in my eyes. No, no. He is one heck of a writer, though, which is simply irrefutable.
So, there you have it. I've been reading, reading, reading, and have also been relishing food. What's it to ya, huh? I guess this is my tawdry apology. I don't know. I just really like you, and I don't want you to repress me, ever. You're great, I'm great, and we make impeccable magic. Don't shy away from me, now. Blatantly, I am sad (as flawlessly exemplified in my almost obscure expression). But I am eluding to you abandoning me. You get it? You just can't leave me, you can't. In any event, I have the tendency to flagrantly ramble. It's a sickness, really, as I can't control my ability to speak of nonsense at my prime. I presume that's what happens when your fingers don't touch a keyboard for an exceptionally long period of time. Whoa, baby.
The only thing that has been making me feel a euphoric sense of contentment is this Urban Outfitters hat. The shallowness in enabling a particular garment to satisfy me is just disappointing, although I am being definitively candid. Oh, yeah; oh yeah. Another thing I have to say about this outfit is that I've been shamelessly wearing these Zara boots everyday now. They perfectly emulate Rag And Bone boots, or even Theory boots, and that only makes me the happiest camper of them all.
One more thing I'd like to point out: Poignancy is entirely asinine. Although I sort of (and I say, sort of) regret not writing for a whole century, I refuse to evoke vulnerability. If anything, my rambling, as I will now try to fit noteworthy words into each post, will only do you good. I'll let you in on all the things that I've been exposed to (well sort of, because I can't really remember much, but whatever). The p-p-point is, that I love you, and if you will respectfully love me back, that would be the most awesome. Also, because you are always on my mind, please dress appropriately in this weather. In other words, turtlenecks are cool and completely chic. Don't let anybody whip out scissors and effectively convince you to cut the neck part off.
I will be back. I will..be back.