I wish I was British.

Oh, stop it. I am ever so amused. Why do people insist on posting their heart on their facebook profile page. The saying of "wearing one's heart on one's sleeve" is rather outdated. The stupid thing is that now everyone can see, not just you and your (unfortunate) other half. The only love I show publicly is my love for Sherlock Holmes. . . . . . Please don't make me vomit in my mouth with your affection. Besides, it'd just be embarrassing if you were to cheat on your beloved whilst abroad. Or fall for your boyfriend's best friend. Or move on after two months. Oh, scratch that, there's two people who have moved on in a shockingly little amount of time. Mind you, with the second person, it's been surprisingly slow. I'd made an internal bet that said person would've cheated on her boyfriend while she was back home.

Sunset embers smoulder in the dusk,
the gentle flicker of flames dissolve
to purple depths that slowly approach.
Golden leaves drag their feet along,
skittering across the cold pavement,
long shadows stretch their empty arms;
a lone dragon's breath drifting ahead
and I am finally able to breathe.

Oh, merriment. I don't know why, but I derive so much joy out of finding out secrets. It's a rather vindictive sport, but the dividends are oh, so so high.

One day, if I ever suddenly get speak with an accent, I would take on an English one. Not only do you sound sophisticated and ten times smarter, you also sound like you've stepped right out of a period drama. And I want to wear a pretty dress and drink tea all day. Oh, and sleep in a four poster bed.

Alas. I must be content with paying my rent and vehicle registration. It sounds so unromantic in comparison. In fact, work has made me contemplate hosting a parasite in my womb. And as my friends should know, I did have plans to make myself a spinster aunt who is married to her work. And now I would like to give birth. This is an odd change of mind.

Names: Zachary and Ariadne.

I take that back. Between working and trying to do my assignment, whilst trying to still have a life, time is just like sand running between my fingers.