I'm supposed to be doin' something else right now - I rarely lose stuff to do, basically...but the clicking of the keys here on my keyboard is actually music to my ears. It makes me feel like I'm the editor-in-chief of Seventeen, a la Atoosa Rubenstein. It makes me wonder about my future. Obviously, fantasy beats reality anytime. How I wish I could live THAT life. The Atoosa life. The Hollywood life.
Sadly, I don't EVEN live in a super-well-industrialized country. I mean, I love the Philippines, for real. But I just wish it had more spice and mystery like the US (even though I hate to admit this), ITALY, Spain...and France. And Portugal (calling all Christiano Ronaldo fanatics!). Even if I get into a Philippine mag, I'm not gonna be dealing with the Lindsay Lohans, the David Beckhams, the Poshes, the Maroon 5s and the Rihannas. I'm gonna be dealing with the celebrities that I don't like. Heck, I can't even name a super famous contemporary Filipino artist.
This post suddenly reminds me of my diary. This is how things are in my diary, actually. I'd better call it a journal. Diary sounds too childish.
I did this out of boredom.
LOVE,
Me
Sadly, I don't EVEN live in a super-well-industrialized country. I mean, I love the Philippines, for real. But I just wish it had more spice and mystery like the US (even though I hate to admit this), ITALY, Spain...and France. And Portugal (calling all Christiano Ronaldo fanatics!). Even if I get into a Philippine mag, I'm not gonna be dealing with the Lindsay Lohans, the David Beckhams, the Poshes, the Maroon 5s and the Rihannas. I'm gonna be dealing with the celebrities that I don't like. Heck, I can't even name a super famous contemporary Filipino artist.
This post suddenly reminds me of my diary. This is how things are in my diary, actually. I'd better call it a journal. Diary sounds too childish.
I did this out of boredom.
LOVE,
Me
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