if rainy days make a close friend of mine go blue for the simple reason that she can't go all summery with her plush tan, these days make me function more than sasha pivovarova on those prada heels. i mean, c'mon--if there had been any day worse than these seemingly endless rainy days, it would be--at least according to me--the hot days of summer.
im so happy. teary eyed of the fact that the rainy days are here again (and i can't find my fab umbrella--need to fire my yaya. kidding) to make me think of the fun things i did back when virginity was a taboo and i use threads to make kites fly, not sew. hay. childhood. i wished i was young again, but with the same old soul i have right now. my former yaya used to make me a nice taza of champorado while rain poured outside and id certainly feel better as i watch the poor kids play in the, eew, tubig baha. believe me. i envied them at some point.
now that im all grown up, almost six feet tall and more terrified of my gained weight over the years (believe me also, i got insecurities), i still think of my childhood as the most precious era in my life--not swarovski-precious, but more likely essential, er, fun--and that i was never the same scruffy kid i was twelve years ago.
i miss being a kid. and now that i'm turnin twenty three this year, ive grown to miss it more than i miss eating champorado while the rain incessantly pours.
lookbook.nu link
i put the 'art' in 'sartorial'
- ryen paulo
- a critic surgically implanted with raised left eyebrow, sharp eyesight, delusional blurts and dishy perspectives. call me a conceited, conniving chic cow and i'll call you my favorite bitch.
