There are certain things which are undefinable. I believe we ourselves are one of these things.
I am unable to clearly define myself, but what I can say is this:
I am young, an unsure, messy, paradox of a fifteen year old girl, exhausted by blatant ignorance, and I possess an ardent love for many things.
I continually find myself more in literature, in words, rather than reality or actual human beings. Perhaps this is strange, or quite sorrowful, but it is also why I write. Why I imagine anyone writes, really. We look to find relief from our writing, to break ourselves apart and lay ourselves bare on a page. And perhaps this is what I am aiming to do here.
I have a copious amount of opinions, which works in my favor sometimes, and gets me into trouble other times. I am a fan of an intellectually stimulating conversation, but also harbor a passionate hatred for smalltalk, quite honestly. And I tend to rant, as I am currently doing!
To keep it simple: I am a shameless Directioner, adore Harry Styles and House of Cards more than anything, I overanalyze absolutely everything, I love Joan Didion/Emily Bronte/Charles Bukowski/Tavi Gevinson/Ezra Koenig/Kerry Washington and many more human beings who I do not know, tea is a necessity, and am an adamant feminist.
That is all, really.
Hopefully you will be able to gain something- what, I don’t know- from this little blog here, and if you do, I am very glad. Please feel free to talk to me about anything. And please leave your misogyny behind!