On the fondling of the brains

 
Although it doesn't happen very often, I've caught myself thinking -while talking to someone fascinating- how it would feel like if my brain could become intimate with theirs. The things they say are just so interesting that I can't help but want to touch that particular organ more than any other of their organs, and sure, in the literal sense, brains touching would feel uncomfortable at best, but you can't deny it! There have been instances when you felt like screaming "My brain wants to have sex with your brain!" and simply didn't. Maybe you felt it but didn't know how to say it without sounding absurd, maybe you didn't really recognize the feeling. Well, I'm that weird person who feels and says that sort of thing, which usually results to me being left alone with my weird ideas. But what can you do, right?

On love and crap like that

A dancing heart gave me a red balloon today and I wanted to die because people were staring at me, BUT I have a red balloon floating around in my kitchen as I'm writing this and that's freaking awesome! More balloons please!

February 14. It's the day of the year on which, someone decided, love should be celebrated. Once more, I tell you, if you can't celebrate love on any and every other day, you might as well give up and eat those chocolates alone. But I don't want to be the Valentine Grinch so, Happy Valentine's Day, bitcheeees! ;)

A bit repetitive, aren't I?

So, ok! I know I've said this before and my lack of confidence must be getting to you, people kind enough to follow and read my blog... But I swear, I mean it this time and I'm not going to second-guess myself again! Concerning the matter of writing at least.

Let's face it, I'm a writer. I tried really hard to deny the fact, tried to change it but nothing worked. Perhaps I'm not that great a writer but here's hoping that will change, in time! Instead of trying to run from myself, I'm going to do what I can to get my work published. Because, let me tell you, I'm tired of having to conceal that part of me, I've had enough. If you think it's funny, go ahead and laugh. I can't blame you. Hell, I may even join you! Let's all laugh at me!

Are we done laughing now?

I'm a writer. You won't hear me deny it again. And if you do, you have my permission to call me a jerk and slap me. Do we have a deal?