Be vague, not vogue.

Self confessed sins is the recipe for fame, is it not? Why be guilty when you can be famous? We all so proud, we trade our conscience for shiny glitter. Manipulate your sins right, and you'll be a legend.

It's sad, but not a bad idea really. It beats being known for something really boring. Like the one always washing the dishes on Raya day.

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I had this really realistic dream that someone was pressing a scissors against my throat, trying to poke a hole through it. My friend said don't get too excited because I'm not that important for someone to so badly want to murder me he's invaded my dreams to do it, which was exactly what I thought. He said it could mean some poor sucker out there is missing me.
I'm like, how can attempted murder means someone is missing me? He's all, 'I dunno. Love kills?'

I long for the day where I would beat my boredom by skinny dipping at the Pacific instead of watching Nigella Bites and/or liking everyone's status on Facebook for no real reason.