beat beat beat

I’m 19 years old. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned that before, but if you’ve been ambitious enough you might have read it under that which I got from my mama. Just to clarify.

This weekend ended up being a bit different from what was planned. Considering lack of fundings and shortage of energy due to the exhausting feeling that is boredom (quite ironic how boredom breeds more boredom, eh?) I’ve been rather unwilling to do anything spectacular. Ah…

Not that I’m bragging about a spectacular weekend that just passed. It was colorful, and quite interesting to say the least, but not really spectacular. That word is really only appropriate for things involving colorful plays with lots of exotic music and goofy dancing. And such things.

There was a night out, which made me realize how utterly damaged my party-gene is. Seriously, somebody needs to beat that somewhat reserved little pretty girl out of me, asap. I have no idea what she’s doing there, but she’s making it rather hard to enjoy her company, as well as others. I’m 19, damn it!

Last night I spent most of my time at Caporales DK’s masked party event which included delish food, spectacular (there you go!) shows, spicy music and a lot of rum. I was the official photographer, and acted solely as such.

No mask in the world could’ve hidden that there clearly is something very wrong with me…


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