Most modern calendars mar the sweet simplicity of our lives by reminding us that each day that passes is the annivesary of some perfectly uninteresting event - Oscar Wilde

So much of wanting to give my mundane life a breath of fresh air. 7 days after my 21st birthday, nothing exciting or different had materialised. I am still the same old me, leading the same old life. I watch as my plans of leading a dynamic after 21 life go down the drain. Ask me - "Do i feel like an adult?", i would most prolly tell you to buggle off and stop asking me stupid questions. Nothing had changed, postively. Nothing.

How many of you out there had planned that after turning 21, you would start living it up to the fullest, yet realise that after the big day passed you by, you had still fulfilled nothing? As a normal teenager growing into a young adult, i had a list of plans drawn out that includes watching my first RA movie, getting my first tattoo etc etc. So far i had not watched any RA movies yet. As for the latter plan, i could only say that the patience of getting inked only at 21 had ran out too fast. I got myself inked nearly 2 years before hitting 21. Often i wondered to myself; "If Art imitates Life, will Life ever get as exciting as portrayed in the movies?" Why do the characters in movies always get a life much desired but in reality, this kinda life will prove an impossible dream?. I like the french movie "Amelie" very much. I always thought that Amelie's character was larger than life, but that life of hers was rather attainable. I thought about how good it would be if i was Amelie, with that strange bob hairdo, ready smile, impish grin and wicked; out-of-the-world ideas up my head. Perhaps like her, i could find love in a most unique & unconventional way. However, 21 years and a few heartbreaks later, i still failed to get an experience close to that. A pity that i even hoped to be living amidst a la-la hollywood romantic comedies dreamland where perfect boy meets perfect girl and falls in love sort of fairytale life. Bugger that and Dream on...

Why should i be so utterly convinced that life is so purposeless? It's like an endless cycle of complaining and pissing myself off. Dear old me, i am turning into a sad old bitch. Fags. I know of certain bimbos who will be reading and thinking "what a sad, sad, bitch". But know what? I don't really care two F**ks. Or perhaps i do care. Sadly, i still don't know myself that well.