wishful thinking...
I swear if a pin drops…it’ll be as loud as a gong.
That’s how quiet the house is.no one’s home.only me,myself and i.
it’s scary when you’re left alone with your thoughts.crazy flashes bolt across my mind.i’m walking out of my limo,to the thunderous applause of my fans,looking every inch Beyonce.cameras flashing and what not.
now I’m 72,rocking in my chair,lookin out the window,wondering y it takes so long to get dark these days.i look acroos the room,n there, lying on the couch is my immobile husband.cant recall for the life of me what I saw in that man.80 and braided,hell,that’s resh.now I remember.;)
where in the world did that come from?no,I’m not at the crossroads of Mariah-Britney’s phase of depression-cum-denial.i cant be..
anyway, last night I changed my ringtone to ‘oh,Carol’ , the oldie.thats not a sign that I’m getting old,is it?let you in on more,here’s my music these day…the look of love,perhaps,perhaps,perhaps,cant take my eyes of you,unchained melody,wonderful tonight.
I am getting old.
I watched Oprah on thursday afternoon,she turned the big 50 today.on the 29th of January actually.cant help it if we get very updated episodes now,can we?
Well,I wouldn’t mind turning 50 if I were oprah.a 400 pound cake is something to look forward to.yummy.and those pj’s were oh-so-cute.
But the hard truth is,I’m 21 going on 22 and haven’t worn a tube in my life.
soon I’ll be wrinkly and the partying would be reduced to four ppl sitting at the dining table over roast turkey and wine.oh,and the most horrifying thing is,my girlfrens and I are all wearing PEARLS!! and the conversation would revolve around which brat did what a nightmare indeed,but i see it coming.and Next Episode would mean the next episode of the bold and beautiful.
But the consolation is that I’m gonna drag my big fat butt to the gym and sweat it out next semester onwards and get into that tube by the end of this year.impossiblie or not!scouts honour!even if it means getting up at 5 a.m.
the only way I can actually bring myself to achieve this is to invest in a ridiculously expensive fitness centre.that’ll make sure I get my moneys worth.and that too,will leave me broke so that I wont have money to eat!ha!the perfect plan…somewhere at the back of my mind though,I know this’ll backfire..just like every other resolution i’ve made.
Wouldn’t it be easier if I were one of those freaks who love to exercise?
oh yeah,gotta do something bout this pimple plantation too.
god,would you give up playing the farmer?ok,I hear you.it’s not you.its the food I eat and don’t eat.it’s exercise regime that I don’t follow.its the elevator I take,instead of the stairs.sheesh…now it’s all my fault that I’m a hippopotamus.
That’s how quiet the house is.no one’s home.only me,myself and i.
it’s scary when you’re left alone with your thoughts.crazy flashes bolt across my mind.i’m walking out of my limo,to the thunderous applause of my fans,looking every inch Beyonce.cameras flashing and what not.
now I’m 72,rocking in my chair,lookin out the window,wondering y it takes so long to get dark these days.i look acroos the room,n there, lying on the couch is my immobile husband.cant recall for the life of me what I saw in that man.80 and braided,hell,that’s resh.now I remember.;)
where in the world did that come from?no,I’m not at the crossroads of Mariah-Britney’s phase of depression-cum-denial.i cant be..
anyway, last night I changed my ringtone to ‘oh,Carol’ , the oldie.thats not a sign that I’m getting old,is it?let you in on more,here’s my music these day…the look of love,perhaps,perhaps,perhaps,cant take my eyes of you,unchained melody,wonderful tonight.
I am getting old.
I watched Oprah on thursday afternoon,she turned the big 50 today.on the 29th of January actually.cant help it if we get very updated episodes now,can we?
Well,I wouldn’t mind turning 50 if I were oprah.a 400 pound cake is something to look forward to.yummy.and those pj’s were oh-so-cute.
But the hard truth is,I’m 21 going on 22 and haven’t worn a tube in my life.
soon I’ll be wrinkly and the partying would be reduced to four ppl sitting at the dining table over roast turkey and wine.oh,and the most horrifying thing is,my girlfrens and I are all wearing PEARLS!! and the conversation would revolve around which brat did what a nightmare indeed,but i see it coming.and Next Episode would mean the next episode of the bold and beautiful.
But the consolation is that I’m gonna drag my big fat butt to the gym and sweat it out next semester onwards and get into that tube by the end of this year.impossiblie or not!scouts honour!even if it means getting up at 5 a.m.
the only way I can actually bring myself to achieve this is to invest in a ridiculously expensive fitness centre.that’ll make sure I get my moneys worth.and that too,will leave me broke so that I wont have money to eat!ha!the perfect plan…somewhere at the back of my mind though,I know this’ll backfire..just like every other resolution i’ve made.
Wouldn’t it be easier if I were one of those freaks who love to exercise?
oh yeah,gotta do something bout this pimple plantation too.
god,would you give up playing the farmer?ok,I hear you.it’s not you.its the food I eat and don’t eat.it’s exercise regime that I don’t follow.its the elevator I take,instead of the stairs.sheesh…now it’s all my fault that I’m a hippopotamus.
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