glorify yourself in shit

forgive for this moment of folly.
let me warn you that i'm about to indulge myself in idiocy and absolute rash and absurd judgements.
so you may be well advised to click on that red button there.

during this period of oh-so-busyness,
i'm allowing myself occasional indulgence
and i'll try to limit the outbursts and expressions to that is light-headed and senseless.

[faiz, this one especially for you. may you have an early and good night]


so, i've been thinking about this.
what would life have been like if i'd lived in the 1800s?
[ok, in UK context here]
there was quite a period of time when i believed that i would and could have indeed flourished and enjoyed life then.
what with the beautiful landscapes, so-not-dead chilvary and gentlemen aplenty.
call me a romantic, but a girl must be somewhat allowed some indulgence for such imprudence.


then again, life as it was would be just as trying and demanding as it is now.
of course, in a diferent context.
but, there is no denying the trials and adversity that girls/women/ladies of those times faced.


analysing my own personality and individuality
i have doubts of my esteem being highly regarded.
i may indeed, have been able conform [or, concur incumbently in an expedient manner] to the requirements of the times then.
but one may have to wonder how my eccentricity and frequent temperamental outbursts would be agreeable to the society.


i cannot deny however, that i might have been agreeable to being swept of my feet by a darcy or a wytton.
really. if this were true, then i wouldn't have mind for nought to be living in those times.

(now, in fact, any sensible girl wouldn't mind
ok, maybe i shouldn't generalise.
i am in company who believe in urban-living.
we may not be of one mind, but i guess i'm able to understand their point of view.)

i can't seem to find the reasoning for my choice
the appeal just causes temporary loss of speech.
and this my friends is the reason why i fear martrimony.
not linked, you say?
let me spell it out clearly.
the fear of commitment stems from the fear of getting hurt.
[yes, emotionally. i'm perfectly fine with physical pain, regardless of how i've ben presenting myself lately.]

i fear i've gone too far this time.
exclaiming to the world my thoughts,
without any regard whatsover to the seeming imprudence at the thought


well, i leave you bask in the confusing state that your is probably in right now.


please note that this was writen as a form of entertainment as will future entries albeit the writer's ability to do so.
and have no mistake the credit lies not in her.


"The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid" -Northanger Abbey