I took a look at all the drafts. The ones posts that I either dare not publish or I somehow lose the appetite to publish. For I am one hell of an impulsive writer, or doer, for that matter. I rarely write with my head, I ride my emotions to write. Thus, when the mood swings to arctic cold, I would just drop the pen, literally speaking, and poof.
But when I take a look back, the draft posts, the ones that I write not trying to be pretty or decent, are the source of a great great inspiration. Some of the stuffs I wrote when I was pissed or madly in love are just.. Yes somebody pass me the Bakul already. I'll get in and pick it up myself. And go and try to figure this Malay idiom in play. Or else, feel free to - Oh well..
I am a free spirit trapped in the rigidity of trying to be pretty. Perhaps, the need to feel accepted. Was I attention-deficient growing up ? Mak said I was.
This is some very random shit. From some very random thoughts.
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