I remember reading Enid Blyton’s books and being fascinated; I have most likely read nearly all her books and my favourite ones being the Famous Five, Secret, Enchanted and Farm series, all of which are sitting on my bookshelf at home waiting for my return. I doubt I’ll ever touch them again though but somehow, I always refused to put them in boxes and forget about them. The same followed during my later years with my Charmed, Sabrina and god-knows-what obsessions. And again, not that anything has changed. The writing was never one which attracted me to the books, somehow in the grand scale, among all the adventures and fantasies, it was the least important of all. I read everything, from beginning to end, the only exception being the Lord of The Rings triology – I never got past the third chapter of the first book no matter how sexy Elijiah Wood looked on the cover. Books took me to places, they made me dreamed – I have stopped counting the times I imagined myself to be a character in the book. That, since I started reading 16 years ago, my very first book being about dinosaurs. I remember sitting in my Daddy’s lap and wondering how it would have been to live at that time.

Ten years later, I cannot say that anything has changed. I want to tell my Daddy:”Daddy, I want to be an author.” I am twenty and want to make people dream.

Perfect stance, fragile beauty, plastered smile,
She puts on her show with emotions set aside.
From passion to duty, from duty to slavery,
She performs, dancing to the tunes of music.

Slouch movements copying her graceful ones,
She watches as the little one yearns to be her.
Memories flooding, the scenario replaying,
She remembers holding that innocent gaze.

Child, she imagined being the queen of swans;
Even she had been mesmerized by Odette.
Now, frozen in time, the spell had worn off:
Odile’s deception was more apparent that ever.

The last notes playing, her tempo decreasing,
The curse forces her into painful submission.
Back to dreamless sleep she is compelled to go
Until another unlucky soul turns the key again.

Tiny hands flicking the key to the box of music,
Wishful eyes dream of what possibly can’t be.
A light hearted melody, an enchanting power,
The little porcelain doll is once more freed.

Knowing that a full-proof plan was needed, for, of course, we were going to be bombarded with questions about the why and stuff. The best strategy needed to be adapted to get past the barriers our supermoms created, and after dropping clever hints for months and crafting the perfect reasons, we decided to present our cases to our mothers. We almost jumped in joy when we heard the oh-so-awaited “yes” uttered by our mothers! We had wanted this for a long time, but somehow everything was rushed. The previous week, I told the girls that they could come whenever they want, and suddenly, Wednesday arrived, with me hurrying to go meet them.

It was decided to meet in town first, for a trip to the beauty salon (yes, it would seem in the past months our feminine side had been awakened). A quick remake of “The Grudge” (with Nus in the main role) later, we finally made way for Nus’s place where what would be the craziest day of our life would soon begin! Lying on the sofa bed which since 2007 has been witnessing our girly meetings, with Nus’ feet somewhere where they shouldn’t have been, we started playing our favourite Top 5 game, which somehow switched from Top 5 to Top Worst and vice versa, as per the whims of the ‘not-so-womanly woman of the house’.

The Nus

But doing the same things over and over again do tend to be tiring, no matter how fun they are. Five cards later, we were under the blankets, talking about god-knows-what, until we fell on my “cute perfumed diary” as Sayuka so perfectly described in 2002. No need to say that what was written in it was mostly embarrassing for Sayuka and G. We really were dying of laughter as we went through the pages… 2002 was the year Sayuka, G. and I met, though I doubt we’ll ever remember how Sayuka and I met really. However, if there’s something we’re not likely to forget, it’s how we practically hated each other. And the not-so-perfected sarcastic tone of Sayuka’s note just reminded us of that time, upon which, we laughed even more.

The Revelation

After taking a break for some calorie intake, we continued till the very last page, reading out the very limited intellectual abilities of us kids when we were 12 years old. G couldn’t stay for the night, so she went home at about 3, promising to comeback the day after.

Huge Calorie Intake

With just the two of us alone now, Nus and I decided to continue talking, jumping, as was our habit, from one subject to the next, till we were called for dinner. After which, back upstairs, tucked under the blanket again, we decided to watch an old Olsen Twins movie. Movie time was also cuddling time, as I soon learned; for as soon as Nus didn’t want to continue watching the screen, she snuggled teasingly against me, which earned her a good deal of “Leave Me alone” and slaps. But soon, we grew tired of the movie, and stopped watching altogether, going back to discussing matters that were worrying us. It was the time for a truly open-hearted conversation, with our feelings and emotions laid bare.

“Hey, let’s get on the bed, okay? We’ll fall asleep here, if that continues,” said Nus, some hour later, eyelids drooping and voice all sleepy. It was true; the demons of sleep were sneaking on us. So we grudgingly went to make the bed and sunk underneath the 4 layers of thick blanket. We were expecting to fall asleep as soon as our heads hit the pillows, but the night was far from over.

From the serious topics on the sofa bed, we indulged in the silliest conversation ever, unable to laugh for everyone was asleep already! We stifled laughter and giggles as each of us added to the silliness of the conversation, so much that the 4 supposedly heavy blankets were flung off us as easily as a simple cover would! A blanket war later, we were left feeling as hot as in summer, suffocating under the blankets. It was time for a change of scenery: off went two of the heaviest blankets. Once again under the covers, we resumed the conversation. It was time for Nussie to feel all affectionate and clingy, sinking low in the bed and snuggling close to me. As I flung off her arms and pushed her unmoving body away, Nus protested in the most innocent manner: “But there’s no room! Don’t push me!” Needless to say there was still half of the bed left on her side, but the little missy’s love was overwhelming and she couldn’t keep her hands to herself, despite my harsh words and kicks and punches! So I gave up, and let her do as she pleased (it was easier to let her do that; for fighting her off made her more clingy -.-)

We soon came to a realization: Nus and I were through and through closet perverts xD. We couldn’t help it! I witnessed a quick parody of “Spiderman” starring Nus, and learned that her legs were in fact a sack of potatoes! So the laughter doubled and the antics intensified, so much that we didn’t see the time pass. A glance at the clock, or more exactly Nus’s phone, told us it was almost 3 in the morning! We decided to have some rest, for we didn’t want to be Zombies and miss the fun the next day!

I remember waking up to my mom opening the door to my room. As per her usual routine, she went to feed the fish and at the same time, stole the empty cookies box which still is lying on my kitchen shelf. My last thought before I fell in deep slumber again was “I can’t believe she’s not banging doors today”, which is part of her daily routine as well. I woke up again to the really loud vibrations of my cellphone. It was G. sending me an sms, telling us that she would be coming at 11.30 a.m. instead of the 10.00 a.m we had agreed to. So far, so good, for I wasn’t sure we would have been ready at 10. I showed Sayuka the message and I think we both fell asleep again, to wake up to the deafening alarm clock of my cellphone. Maybe it was time to wake up after all, but… sleep was the only thing on my mind…

Sayuka, being the most reasonable one, got out of bed immediately. I watched her as she went to and from the connected living room in search of her stuff, not that I could actually see her very clearly. I was without my glasses, very sleepy and half of my face was covered with the blanket. I think she talked to me, but I can’t really remember. It was only when she went to the other room that I decided to get out of sweet heaven as well.

I heard Nus getting out of bed and going to brush her teeth. By that time, I was on her arm chair, watching her goldfish doing their morning gym, feeling very sleepy. I came out from my trance-like state by an apparition in pink! “Shall we get breakfast,” Nus asked. Nodding, I followed her downstairs where Nus presented to me the possible combinations for breakfast. Too tired to bother about my usual preferences, I took a cereal bar, some strawberries and a cup of hot tea, and we went to the table to eat.

We wondered what was on TV as we switched it on. There was a silly cartoon on, and we, or I should say, Nus decided to watch it. So engrossed was she in the show that she started to emulate the characters’ gestures, all the while telling me: “I would never go so far to save you, me, you know?” as a comment on the day’s episode theme. I only nodded and laughed, commenting on how silly the cartoon was! Breakfast done, we cleaned up and went back upstairs. The events that followed are a blur for me. I’m sure we just talked of things, but I can’t really remember what! All I remember is us deciding to shower for it was soon time for G. to come!

Who came at 11.27 a.m. instead of 11.30 a.m. I’m just glad we managed to take a shower before she came, for our pink pajamas weren’t really that welcoming. Sitting in my armchair, G. really looked like a psychologist taken out of her consultation room, as I did when I sat in it the day before. I think it’s the armchair… Anyway, we got the crazy idea to create a mini-movie with me as patient and G. as psychologist. Sayuka was the cameraman, or rather should I say, camerawoman. Though none of us were actors or interested in acting, we do have that hobby of writing mini-scenarios which we would act out. *goes to the times when we were mythology crazy and wrote the domestic disputes of Zeus and Hera*

As the one holding the camera, I couldn’t possibly laugh, much as I would have loved to. Nus was so much in her role of a stingy and frustrated young woman whose husband left her, that she yelled, without mercy, at poor G. who couldn’t keep up with her pace. I tried hard to stifle giggles, concentrating on immortalizing the moment a new actress was born. Finally the mini-movie was done, and I dissolved in uncontrollable laughter at last! Lying again of the sofa-bed, we tried to think of something to do. We had planned so many things, but at that time, they weren’t really that appealing. Until G. voiced out that she wanted to play Barbie.

So off we climbed down the stairs, to what Nus’s Mom had termed: the messy room. Perched on a chair, rummaging through the toy cupboard, Nus gave us item after item, till we no longer could hold anything. While teasing us, Nus’s Mom came to our rescue, with a basket and a plastic bag, that were soon stuffed with toys. Some 15 minutes or so later, we were all ready, and satisfied and giddy with excitement, we returned to Nus’s room for the construction of Dull Town!

Supermom to the Rescue

Sitting on the large carpet, we all started setting up everything, from the bedroom to the garden to the supermarket. We managed to find a use to every single accessories we brought with us and no need to say that we were really innovative for the things that we didn’t have; my cushion cover was turned into the velvet green lawn of the garden, my autumn and mountain themes puzzles became the sceneries and my mom’s tissue box was the small house in the small meadow (la petite maison dans la petite prairie). After shooting some commercials for Sparkling Comestics, we decided to create another mini-movie with the dolls as actors.

Sparkling Cosmetics, “Parce que je le vaux bien”

Starring were, Madeleine Medusa, the famous top model of Sparkling Cosmetics, her lover, Jean Ken, an internationally renowned gymnast and their daughter, Whity Medusa. There also were the peeping tom neighbor, Vosin Voyeur and his gossiper wife, Vosine Voyeur along with the not-so-famous journalist, Jacqueline Fouine, who was looking for the scoop of her life. Oh, I almost forgot Lolita McLust, the AV actress who was on the run from her fans and came for refuge in Dull Town.

A web of stories was spun, as Jean Ken met Lolita McLust and ended up in bed with her and Vosin Voyeur who saw them told his wife who in turn told Jacqueline Fouine. It was really a pity that G. missed the very gory ending we created. Several songs were chosen to suit the scenes we had written and we really are proud that we managed to bring together Beethoven, Dvorzak, Vanessa Mae, Bond, Anna Tsuchiya, Nobuo Uematsu, Alex Chu and Britney Spears. Sayuka and I are really the best team ever, for we do not even have to go into lengthy explanations to know what exactly the other wants, that is really going to be the thing I’d miss the most when I go away in September.
So true… I’ll sure miss it too… I have never met till now someone who could understand what I want without I needing to explain. These two days at Nus’s place has reawakened our complicity, something that I’ll miss when she goes in September. We rediscovered ourselves through the fun, building a closer bond and making the best memories to last us a lifetime. For me, this sleep-over would always remain the best time of my life, one that I would cherish for life.

As it is for me…

So one sunny afternoon, having sent her faithful underlying to spy on the resistant household’s new construction, she opened the door and her graceless Queen of Horror stepped out of her equally horrible castle. Seeing the lady of the household on the balcony, she called out to her,

“My dear lady, the construction you are putting up is illegal! It’s almost touching my precious wall!”

For indeed, the evil witch loved and worshipped the stone wall she had erected to separate her Fief and that of her “subjects”. There was various legends as to why the old hag cherished that petty construction so much. Maybe there were gold bars hidden in the wall? Or money? No one knew, for touching the “Sacred Wall” was sacrilegious! It was also common knowledge that the old witch intended to be buried with the bits and pieces of that wall. Why would she do that? It remained a mystery, of course!

The lady of the household, annoyed at being disturbed by the hated busybody, answered,

“Oh really? And where have you learned that?”

The Monstrosity of a witch was angry at the lack of deference in the Lady’s tone.

“Oh, because I’ve learned every law this country has! So listen to me: either you leave three feet from the wall then build your construction or I’ll call the authorities to make them issue an order to stop that construction!” she proclaimed in a high and mighty tone of voice, satisfied to have showed off what she thought to be a proof of her superiority over the “lowly roaches”.

By this time, the young lord of the household and his father, alerted by the noisy altercation over the balcony [for, alas the monster witch had no notion of etiquette =( ] , entered the scenery.

“What is your problem, Old witch?” the young lord demanded furiously. The household was taken aback! The calm and peace-loving young lord never got angry!

“I’m talking to your Mother, young man, stay out of it!” the eyesore of a witch stated, with an air of superiority of course!

The young lord, not deterred by the tone, continued,

“You just stated you knew all laws right? And would call the authorities, right? Well, go ahead! Or are you all-talks and no actions?”

“You are just a petty ‘Faiseur D’esprit’,” the old hag hissed angrily, using what she thought was an insult the young lord would not understand!

Observing the whole scene, from the start with her mother, the young lady of household barely concealed a laugh.

“ ‘Faiseur D’esprit’ she said? Does that even exist? Poor bastard, she doesn’t even know the meaning of what she just uttered!” the young lady mused.

“You’re talking about laws, right? May I remind you, you built your very precious wall half on what is OUR land?” interjected at last the Lord of the household.

Hearing this, the grotesque witch was taken aback. How could these callous peasants know that? But her pride was not yet altogether deflated!?

“Lady, let’s leave these ‘Faiseurs D’esprit’ out of this discussion,” she addressed the lady, “I’m sure we can have a reasonable conversation, us two!”

For indeed, this witch was a feminist( or was it a scaredy-cat) who dare not talk to males!

By this time, the Lady and her daughter were beside themselves with anger,

“Don’t you dare insult our family,” they exclaimed in unison.

Her pride and confidence at the resistant household’s inferiority battered, the wicked old monster furiously fired a last and stupid “Faiseur D’esprit”, before retreating back in her disgusting den.

The household continued with their construction, knowing that the matter would not end here. For indeed, the old hag would certainly call on the oh-so-mighty authorities and, as insurance, prepare an evil curse for the resisting clan! But the household was prepared to face it all, with weapons that were sure to hit the damn old witch hard and deep!

Afterword: This is not a work of fiction, but an incident that happened to me yesterday! What remains edged in my mind is how stupid and ill-wishing people are. Could we still call those monstrous beings, who are always first to cause misery, human beings? I doubt it! This event just helped to convince me that society is rotten through and through and that leaving at peace in my locality is mere fantasy! On another note, I think I’ll invest in a billboard to be posted on my house! Why, you’ll ask? But of course, to post my household’s everyday life, then the nosy neighbours would hopefully be satisfied!

Sayuka~

The wedding preparations are still going on, but we are kinda relieved since all the clothes and shoes have been packed. Right now, it’s the henna application time, my favourite. I’ve always loved having henna applied to my hands, ever since I was a little girl. And here in my house, we’ve been very lucky since my aunt is a professional at doing this job. When we were kids, my cousins and I, she would usually use us as lab rats to test her new henna she made or designs and we would simply love it.

What is even more wonderful is to wake up in the morning to see that it’s gone all dark red or near black.. The first thing I would usually do is rush to my mother’s room to show her how dark the henna on my hand is. Sometimes we would even compare our hands to see which is darker. There is this saying that the darker the colour comes, the more your husband loves you, which is why there were times I’d tell her that Dad loves us very much (I did want to marry my dad when I was little). I still do tell her that and she always smiles when I do.

If there’s another thing I love, it’s how everyone pampers me; you can’t usually use your hands if the henna hasn’t dried up yet and that’s when you can take advantage of everyone. *smirks* During these times, my father is at my beck and call, ready to do anything I ask of him, now isn’t that heaven?

Well, I was in heaven yesterday. My aunts took more than two hours to complete everything and it was worth every second spent waiting. It was very cold though, and the cold lizard that I am was even colder. It didn’t help that I wasn’t able to wear a pullover or something, so I just had my dad to put a small blanket over me, which didn’t do anything really.

Hurry up, it’s cold

Is it over yet?

I wanted my hands to go really dark, which is why I’ve tried to keep them warm all the time. Yesterday, when the henna dried up, I converted my father’s new socks into gloves (he doesn’t have to know they were his new socks) and have been wearing them since then. I’ve, of course, switched to plastic gloves when handling water since I do no want them to get wet and my precious woolen gloves when I was out. Everybody was looking at me, thinking that I must have been really cold but then, they didn’t know the truth behind the gloves…

My efforts have really paid, okay maybe my father’s, since he was the one who applied lime juice and balm to my hands which have turned real dark and would be even darker tomorrow. It would be perfect. For now, it’s my mother’s turn to be pampered…

Will it turn darker?

Both of my Angelfish died yesterday, I had only two. I found them at night, just before I was going to sleep. I usually take a good look at them to make sure they’re alright. And I found them. One went, I suppose, exploring at the bottom and couldn’t get out. He managed to crawl under the base of the plants and stayed there. The other, much luckier but not that lucky, went looking for him and got stuck in the plants, or maybe he was eating the plant and didn’t care at all for the other one.

Anyway, it was already late when I checked on them, and I managed to take them out of the bowl without disturbing the others. If you’re looking for pictures, let me just tell you that at that time, taking them was not really on my mind. The water turned to a strange colour and I told myself I would change it the first thing in the morning. I kept hoping that the others wouldn’t die before I get to change them.

Sure enough, the moment I woke up, I went to check on them. They all were here, except the Angelfish of course. I fished them out, with much difficulty; they have this really bad habit of hiding at the bottom. I washed the stones and gravel, the plants and finally the bowl, without realizing that it broke. Yeah, it BROKE. How? I haven’t really gone that far for what followed were the shouts of my mom and you really tend to forget everything when she does that.

The small hole with really BIG consequences

Well, she tried to mend it and so far, it’s working. She sealed the big hole with a Nutella jar lid. This way, it won’t leak and the fish won’t go to the bottom either. So far, so good; the fish are alright, the bowl is alright and I’m still in one piece.

Sealed forever by Nutella

Sure enough, for the past month, all I remember doing really is shopping, lots of shopping, which I don’t really mind if shoes are involved (what is it about women and shoes, you don’t want to know), but just remembering the whole range of clothes and jewellery and accessories I had to review makes me feel dizzy. Traditional, formal, casual, you name it and I’ve seen it. My mother wanted to wear blue for the wedding and she ended up with like 5 dresses with practically all shades, from light blue to blue-green, not counting the ones I forced her not to take with us.

As a result, we’ve got a whole suitcase packed, the type of suitcase you use when you are travelling, except we are not travelling, we are simply going to a wedding. For a weekend. For two days. And while I am here whining about my mom’s craze, I also have like half a dozen packed, or more; I still have not decided on the ones I’m going to wear.

Are weddings always that hectic?

I can’t say that I’m not glad that the dark days are finally over, and that the sun is shining as brightly as ever in my little realm, an expression rarely used by the weatherman these days. Sure enough, while my focus has not really been on the calendar, I simply couldn’t ignore the not-so-subtle hints the weather has been giving us Mauritians recently: that winter had finally arrived. Of course, as frivolous as the wind and sunshine could be, we could hardly expect the wintry weather to come as expected, in April as it always did. Instead, after a foretaste of what it would be like during the first week of May, we spent most of the time waiting for the real thing while bathing in heat, almost rivaling with summer, but not quite; the days were growing shorter but it got no colder.

Well, the blankets are out once again, and so are the winter socks, pullovers and scarves. I’m really looking forward to using the socks Dawn sent me, but for now, I kidnapped the my father’s winter clothes, which are way more warmer and comfortable than mine. It’s not like he uses them anyway; he never feels cold and neither does my mother which is really annoying. At least, I know that whether or not the cold air affects them, my cold hands and feet will. I’m feeling very evil right now….

Anyway, while I try to work out a master plan to freak them out, I’ll leave you with my two unnamed-yet goldfish which I received today from my mom and their new buddy. My father does not know about them yet, and I don’t think we are going to tell him very soon; he will think we would be fed up very soon and then, he would have to take care of them. Oh, and suggestions for the names are welcome.

… in my case, old habits make it harder.

I’ve always abhorred disliked keeping in touch with people… for some reason, especially with those whom I can meet pretty easily. While most of my friends and cousins have come to accept that fact, most people find it strange and rather unwelcoming that I often disappear without any trace and then suddenly reappear as if nothing has happened. Just like these few weeks that have just passed… during which I was practically cut off from the whole world, no phone calls, no meetings, no chatting, no nothing. I can’t even remember the last time I logged on MSN to have a chat with my friends. It’s just that sometimes I seek the silence and stillness that life can offer me, to the detriment of other things that I actually enjoy doing…

Being an only child, I’ve been alone all my life, and over the years, I have come to like living that way, more than ever, after a period of great stress when I feel I simply have to get away and cool off my head. Of course, this doesn’t mean that I confined myself to the house, without talking to anyone. During this time, I’ve actually hit it off with my mother, which is quite an improvement, given how tense our relationship used to be when I was going to school. She was always putting pressure under me to work hard and bring good results, blah blah blah and I was irritated most of the times because I wanted to work at my own pace rather than doing what someone else wanted, which was what I did in the end, putting huge strain on this mother-daughter bond. We even went out lots of times, for shopping and or other stuff, just to have fun and spend my father’s money.

But still, this doesn’t change the fact that instead of seeking out others’ company, I actually find it satisfying alone, when I’m alone. Not that I can be called an anti-social or anything (okay, maybe I can be called that, given how stagnant my social life has been during these past two years), but I really like making friends and going out with them. I totally love the times we go out and have fun together, or even when we squat someone’s place and do all kinds of stuff. But sometimes I find myself drawn to the kind of life I use to have when I was little…

As a child, I was really quiet. Even as a baby, my mom says; it seems I never cried, not even when I was hungry. Of course, this can seem a little unbelievable, given what a loud chatterbox I am. I can go talking non-stop for hours and still have things to say. Nevertheless, I find my circle of friends, getting smaller and smaller, because of that bad habit of mine, and the worse is that, it doesn’t even bother me…

As I said, it makes it harder… for people close to me.

One man’s gain is equal to another man’s loss.

This might be one of the oldest theories in Economics; there can never be two winners, one always has to lose. However, it’s unbelievable how the contrary cannot be applied to all the cases. Someone’s loss might result in another’s loss or gain; it’s a 50-50 risk that one might have to take sometimes. While most economists seek for a balance in such an imperfect world, one cannot help but feel the imbalance that threatens to attach itself to the future generations; the widening gap between prosperous countries and the poverty-stricken others being the most noticeable of all.

What comes to mind when one think about the gloomy destinies of poor countries? Hunger: they are flagged with that one word, the picture of several skinny children coming to mind, and staying what they are, a picture… soon to be discarded for the frivolous and materialistic desires that we harbour and which might not be important. How many times have we thought of the plight of these dying nations, then instantly forgotten about it all because “we had better things to do”? I’m not asking for answer, just trying to make you see the darkest corners of human beings: to always think about us first. Yet, it is the fate of us, privileged beings of society, to complain about our comforts when others lack the very basic needs required to survive in our merciless world.

It’s not our fault for being so selfish; we simply are not aware of the pain and torture some people go through everyday, just because they live in those parts of the globe where even finding one grain of rice is considered to be a miracle. How many of you have ever spent days without eating or even having a single drop to drink? No one, I believe. While some go hungry deliberately to get the perfect body or simply because they ‘forgot’ to eat, others have no choice but bear the unpleasant feeling of the stomach growling and seeking for food everyday because they cannot afford to buy food.

Such a picture can bring tears to the most hardhearted of us, for simply imagining how it would feel pains the heart. And of course, regarding such matters, our imaginations tend to be quite limited. I’m not suggesting that you go on a hunger-strike just to be able to brag you didn’t eat anything for days, there’s no point to it. I was simply wondering if it were too much to ask to give those people a little thought and act on that. The whole objective of this post was to create awareness among internauts, and maybe indirectly help end this crisis of world hunger which has been prevailing since the beginning of times. I asked myself, will this article really help to that?

I had doubts, and I still have them. Some may consider this to be just a good read: “Yeah, yet another idealist, as if we didn’t have enough”. Others might just ignore the whole point and forget about it the second they close the page. Or worst, it might get lost among the thousands posts being written on the subject today. However, I’m still writing it, for even a small contribution might tilt the flow of this crisis. Just like a small action from you might be the reason for the change in these people’s fortune.

Standing for something isn’t just about writing it down. It’s about believing it and living it.

Which I believe I will, in a few months, given the field of study I chose…