My mind was so active when I was younger that I found it hard to sleep. I can remember nights staring at my self-made "Half a World Away" poster for hours on end until I realized it was the next morning and I hadn't slept a wink.
My brain is never ending. Maybe most brains are this way...I don't know. All I know is, I always have something on my mind and sometimes those things are hilarious (if I do say so myself) and other times they are simply weird. Read on if I haven't scared you yet, and you care to know more.♥ I love how certain songs make me feel like I'm high above a mountain top with the sun kissed on my skin and not a care in the world. Currently, those songs happen to be Samson by Regina Spektor, Mango Pickle Down River by M.I.A. and Breathe Me by Sia (which I first heard in a 2009 episode of The Hills--remember that show?). Does music ever make you feel weightless, powerful, weak and infinite all at the same time?
♥ I judge. I can't help myself. I judge people for making stupid jokes. I judge people for not realizing when it's time to shut up. I judge people for wearing things I would never be caught dead in. But I think most people judge; it only matters if you're a bitch about it or not. Yes, your joke isn't anywhere near funny, but I commend you for having the gall to say it.
♥ The fact that Olympic gold medalist Sanya Richards-Ross was born 3 days after me, 1 year before, in the same city that I was born in (Kingston) makes me feel the need to compare myself to her. It doesn't really make any sense when you think about it. She's been training to win a 400-meter race for years, while I've been trying on outfits and filling my closet with one too many pairs of shoes (first world problem) so I don't see why I need to compare myself to a world champion Olympian. Clearly, something's wrong with me. Or maybe there should be an Olympic game for outfit posts. They already have one for trampoline.♥ Sometimes I think I'm the coolest. I mean, rolled up sleeves on a leather jacket kind of cool. I mean, shifting gears in manual even though you drive an automatic kind of cool. I mean, I don't know that lame song because I don't even listen to the radio kind of cool. I mean, knowing the lyrics to Mo Money, Mo Problems kind of cool. I mean, embellished cut out heels with spikes and studs kind of cool. Cooler than sliced bread.
Do you confess to having an active mind?