I tend to write about human emotions, maybe that's the only thing I can write about. Not that I have mastered their understanding or I have any reasoning behind it but maybe I like screaming, that's why. And I think I am a winter girl. Maybe that's why.
I'm going to go into mountains, sell noodles and teach kids. Stories and sketching, maybe alphabets and numbers. I don't know what would I do in the evenings though.
I think we all are famous. Almost famous.
Why does everything has to make sense?