22… not even 23.
And I’ve finally succumbed to the 21st century. There’s no point trying to hide I’m a technophobe and I still belive that we would all be happier and healthier if technology wasn’t as advanced. This is when my mid-twenties crisis comes to life. I don’t know what to do with my life. Do you? My friends are all winging it ATM and so am I. Hence this blog is a thing now.
In trying to find the meaning of life I’ve stumbled across a serious amount of time-wasting fashion blogs in this process, and yet it all seems rather sad and meaningless to me. Why? I don’t buy it. It’s too good to be true, and I’ve never been called a pessimist, but I truly belive there’s more than what they show, we all struggle with life right? I want a blog that talks about real stuff, nourishes me intellectually and makes me believe there are people out there that are also having a crap day. For those who know me, you know I’ve got a sensationally big mouth and I’m great at embarrassing myself. So why not do it publicly?
I’ll talk about all things artsy, food and books, and food again probably. Enjoy the verbiage.
(I’ll surely read this in a year and cringe big time, but that’s la joie du vivre)
Image. The virgin suicides, book by Jeffrey Eugenides and film by Sofia Coppola, both masterpieces.