
hudaa Ismail
nineTeen
pretty much an avid observer who is eccentric in nature as well as one who does things entirely based on her mood.
title: Sixth day of the week, Dolled up faces, prepossessing style & substance. I miss those times, loitering aimlessly around town, chic; carefree. The price of responsibility that tags along with maturity; how huge. No wonder they always say, don't be in a rush to grow up. How great would it be, if i could wind back time, to that at 14. But boy, that wouldn't happen. Out at town, it's five in the afternoon, Marginal notations, concept of elasticities. "How hardworking" were words of a stranger. The temptation of wondering around, we almost resigned to that. They look so candid; hours their companion. Envious. A shopping trip seems so vintage now, when was the last? I need the arrival of June to be as swift as the bullet train, I want to party,I want to shop. I wish to dance all night long. That huge obstacle, let's work doubly hard, to see the fruits behind seeds watered so constantly. Catching up with decent sleep is the priority. Other things can wait, networking with humans, that included. Cheer leading in 12 hrs time, that should make me happy. Even if it's the smallest things, i still dream of a honey-shine-day. Sheela was awesome company. The bed is calling, I can already sense the auditory imagery of bells ringing in 240 minutes time. Books are the apparent scandal. O intelligent beings, GO AHEAD, AMUSE ME FURTHER. Love, vinTage dreams |
|