Another Mystery Blogger award! My first thanks, of course, goes to Jess who’s a budding blogger with talent I hugely admire and I can only encourage you to check hers out – you won’t regret it. I am honoured as always to be put up for these, 2nd one and counting and it means a whole lot! Also, thank you Okoto Enigma for creating the mystery blogger award.
I did horribly in my A levels and my response was just that – good enough. I knew I wasn’t going to get much from it and pulling that piece of paper out of the envelope on results day confirmed it. My eyes skimming the contents briefly and promptly sliding it back in, shrugging and hearing myself utter those words.
Right-click the phrase and scroll down to ‘synonyms’ and you’ll find the closest alternative term to be ‘shit’.
Getting ready, you have bed hair and this stubborn strand of hair is clicked up like a mini-horn. You use hair product to make it sit. It only bounces back stronger and faster than before; fuck it, good enough.
Growing up is difficult. When you are younger, your reactions towards adverse experiences tend to go along the thinking strands of ‘why me’ and ‘it’s not fair’. Chances are if you are a teenager you still enjoy throwing the odd temper tantrum whenever your mum sets those pesky curfews. I get it – that was me once too, never did I expect to embrace growing up.
Dream big while you ‘re youhitting up retail work to cover the price of ambition.
Sun Tzu counters what half of us believe. The lie that we aren’t worthy on a very fundamental level. You’re incapable, you can’t measure up, you have never achieved. The other half, on the other hand, relishes every victory. It believes the smallest win to be a sign of coming world domination. That’s great man, it is, but while I enjoy bravado more than self-esteem issues, I do think that both blind to such extent that both ultimately cripple you.
I’ll be the first to say that when I see a surprisingly high stats; I get happy. The same stands true if I hit an unusually low number; er…less happy.
Dumb conversations part 2. This was three years ago – I must have been around 22.
My sister had just booked us a trip to Amsterdam, as a celebratory thing for successfully finishing my master’s degree.
Hypocrisy is the espousing of ideas or a fully-fledged ideology or moral framework. Judging others using a brush dipped in it only to find it has not been implemented by the ‘visionary’ in question.
Family. It is a big term and encapsulates so much. It is a lifetime of throwing doors shut, angry walkouts, sibling bickering and rivalry, silent treatments and imposed curfews. Somehow your immediate family becomes just a little irrelevant in your teenage years where you embrace your peers as your most essential social necessity. Add some extra years on top and you might turn around, surprised that you have never noticed the group of people who have granted you unconditionally love, regardless of the awkward family occasions.