That girl

I had read countless blog posts, but those that captured my attention has a certain stereotype of either having anything related to pretty things (pretty girls, pretty scenery, pretty bags, pretty furniture, etc) or the author is just downright *insert your own word here*.


And for years, I had strive for presenting the same feeling of those above.


I wasn't born with beauty, but of course do secretly hope to be beautiful one day, I was always the pretty girl's best friend. I have taste for pretty stuffs, but I just couldn't mould up something attractive. So, the first choice was a obvious no-no.


The second option was to write brilliantly, whose words are so interesting that leave you at your seat thinking that words are just enough (a case where the writer can perfectly explain everything by just using words without the necessitate for visual effects). 


But I wasn't one of them. 
I wasn't those type that was brutally honest with their own words.
Oh how I like to say FUCK at any given time any given place.


FUCK FUCK FUCK.
See, that's just not me.


This post is going nowhere.

But if I had the honour to describe myself, I would say that I am that girl that is picky (at everything basically) yet indecisive, that girl that talks too much yet unable to recall any of those previous conversation, that girl that always has a thought for something and yet not always able to put it into comprehensible words, that girl that is afraid of a lot of things (uncertainties, animals, the dark, ghost, pain, scary man, scary women, etc), and that girl that *insert your own word here*.

I sound like a 5 years old girl.


This post is seriously going nowhere.


My first corporate job will be ending in one week time.
And my official tertiary education will be starting in two weeks time.


And I hope that the wave of familiarity will dawn upon me soon enough.


Am going to end this post now. I actually still have tons of thoughts to jolt down like how I enjoyed the attention he had showered on me (not saying that he is Boyfriend, or not), but I feel that a girl gotta keep her own secrets.


So, now I am going to watch Suits and some pretty girl dancing in tight clothes, then I'll take a warm shower. And when I'm done, I'll sit down and write all my secrets into my finally-put-in-good-use-diary.