About me:

HEY THERE ^-^

Hmm, giving myself an overview—how does it work? It took me a year or two to log back in, surprisingly. If only you know how cringeworthy my profile was and hey, understandably so... I was like—what? In 10th Grade? My memory is awful, I’m sitting here, typing these out barely knowing what happened all those years prior. I used to be into dark... you know those edgy stuff, looking back however, no matter how pathetic those phases are to me, I still couldn’t shake off how distant yet fond those were to me—sounds silly especially when I could hardly make out details of who I really was, all I know is... they happened and now I’m here.

About me, Like, For Real This Time. 

About me, really, what about me? Pointing the absolute obvious, I write, I talk—no, I let out my thoughts like a burp coming in hot after downing five soda cans... or six, I digress, I love writing, I actually own different journals, I mean literal journals, papers and ink! I write about everything, it does not need to have a specific topic—okay, I’m absolutely lying... what I mean is, sure, they may contain topics such as specific events or scenarios that are relevant to me and most importantly my thoughts about those. But, get this, I have a dream journal, I talk about my vivid dreams there, how I interpret them, the underlying factors as to why that is (I have this unquenchable thirst for justifying the mere unknown, and I’m sorry) I also have a monthly journal titled Morphe. Yes, like morphing, metamorphosis—not only I could say it’s a Greek word, morph originates from the Greek word Morphe, it also sounds bougie. Going back, is it self explanatory? I write about my monthly realizations, I tend to self reflect most of the time and I genuinely do believe that progress is seen monthly, until those months turn into a year. We only have a hundred and under one to a hundred is twelve months of constant shedding, evolving, I thought it would be cool to document it, show it to my future children or simply leaving trails, breadcrumbs for the future me, giving her a trip down the memory lane. Now, for my last journal, sanctuary, my very own... “Hey, Dairy!” if you are lactose intolerant, you’re in for a ride, I mispelled the word diary on purpose. I’ve thought of it as a way to disguise a literal diary from folks that has little to no concept of privacy, I was like 9 when I came up with that tactic, looking back, it felt idiotic... it’s truly obvious. I have a lot of variants, I think I own two or three notebooks of Hey, Dairy! The recent one... I have to abandon for some reason I would be willing to elaborate further, it is a whole another story to tell and I am a person with a bunch of tales to tell.

That concludes...

...the writing aspect of me, haha! You know I never shut up, how about that for About Me? No, really, keep that in mind.

Humans feel. You do, I do, she does, he does, they do, everyone does. A thought came into mind, just now... at some point in time, did cavemen feel a sense of attachment to their belongings? A place? Say, a cave, one would think [insert caveman gibberish that implies their love for the subject] I have a feeling that... I too would spark a sense of attachment to this place, well, I’m where I could freely lend my thoughts on. It has not sunk in yet, but, I know I’ll love it here. To the person reading this, my heart extends its deepest gratitude, for taking your time to read my nonsensical ramble, funnily enough, this is only an overview... if you plan to stick around, well—I don’t see why would anyone buy their time... you know what, I’ll think of something to refer to you as. Ding! Took me 2 minutes to conclude that I’ll call you Dear Reader, keep it simple... am I right, dear reader? 

Who I'd like to meet: