The hardest thing so far I deal with while writing this blog is finding the first sentence. No matter if I have tones of things to write about or nothing at all at my messy brain. I always knew that wards wasn't my thing but somehow I still found myself forcing my so called sissy hands to tap on my father (in progress of getting my own) laptop when I'm already supposed to be in my third dream if I want to survive my special working day tomorrow (the mayoral election day-my week summit-the icing on the cake-the T REX of all dinosaurs -king Kong of all gorillas-bla). But enough eating your brains, I've got another conflation to make (did you start sing that song too, no just me, ok) I've changed. Well at least my appearance changed a bit in the last time (years) I supposed it's all happened when I took my blog writing brake. Well it's a story for another time, for now let's just blame it on the music. Now when its more common a lot of my friends or a just met peoples will use the word HIPSTER (shhhhh!!) to describe me (no offense but they don't know what they talking of). I think it just another step in my developing look/taste (and it will never stop change).
So maybe before I walk out of my hose like this
(sparkle & fade white T, white slip skirt from my grandmother, my mother flower scarf as skirt, david komaXopshop brown belt and deena & ozzy see through platform sandals)
And now I'm more like this
(on me: made by myself midi flowers dress, Marc by Marc Jacobs black with pompons buttons coat, American Apparel flower hat and classic black vans shoes)
But I am still the little girl (sounds pedophilic) you used to follow
Let me finish with the soundtrack that accompanies me recently all thanks to J Dilla's label fallow peanut butter wolf
(here we call it KAFOT)