Name> Kiley/Kilolo/Ski
Age> 21 years
DOB> 20-10-1983
Location> Los Angeles, CA
Interests> Unattainable males (particularly celebrities, or tortured Byronic characters from manga, or English novels), reading, sleeping, eating, erm... eating, drinking, shoes, handbags, listening to standards on the radio, watching games live
Hopes> To one day finally leave for London and begin life anew, to finally get a Chelsea futbolka, and to finish all the writing projects I had begun
Confined to> Tiny one-bedroom flat with roommate, last semester with bloody hated university, tiring minimum wage work, and desperate monetary situation
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Credits
Layout © Kilolo
Photo Capture © DiscoverKate.com
Gifts:
the very end
rants |
dissertation
As of this moment...
Current date> 12 April 2005
Time> 10:31 a.m.
*stares* Holy fuck! Twenty-two days without bitching online.
And to think I was going to write something quite meaningful.
I love this diary. I really, really do.
Problem is, I feel compelled against my will to write in it. It makes me feel bad if I haven't written in it for a while. And exactly who am I writing for? No one bothers to read it (except my darling twin Tea).
Perhaps that's the real problem. I can't write unless it's for someone. Can't write for myself; I'm much too critical.
And as I drove by the coast today listening to Ella Fitzgerald singing 'I wish I were in love again', I decided to let go.
If anyone is truly, truly interested I do have another online blog in which I unload strange sentiments. But for now, ta.
Ski