I am thinking of making a routine out of books. Perhaps, it will ease the anxiety in me that pops up every minute, over the most trifling issues. Fretting over things that I can't control is wrecking havoc to my skin. You have no idea how much I treasure my skin.
I remembered when I was 14 and already a massive vainpot, I told Mum that should God ever want to test me, He would do so by tampering my skin. A couple of weeks later, I fell off a bicycle and got dragged on the road. I scrapped my left knee and the right side of my face. The skin at my right jaw is rough, slightly pinkish and itches on odd days. And I was only a passenger on the bicycle.
And when puberty hit me in full swing, my face exploded into a zit fest.
Self-fulfilling prophecy, aye?
Oh yes, back to the books. I think it will make me a little calmer but no way am I going back to chicklit now that I have found my leading man. Cheesy, I am perfectly aware of. But completely forgiven for I am in... Dare I say it?!? HAHA. In love!!! WHEE!!! :DDD
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Tonight's a little sad. The sister left for her 5-month long adventure.
Mum sobbed on the way home and the brother went to bed early.
The house is going to be very much quieter, without the random screams of yoke (Or however it is spelt.), declarations of wanting to be a real-life scarecrow and swearing off sinful food.
I think she will be the most awesome Asian to set foot on Kangaroo Land. :DDD
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