Children are wonderful creatures that make decisions which fed-up adults cannot fathom. Am I an adult now? I seem to link adulthood to all that is wrong with life. I have become the very person I despised when I was a child, that person I swore I would never become, ever. So long, childhood promises!
While watching Timm Thaler, I was in my seat wishing that Baron Lived would casually appear next to me and tell me he'd like me to be is evil heir. I'd have accepted his offer without a moment's hesitation! Does he want my laughter in exchange? No problem! Quoting his own words "you don't have much to laugh about anymore anyway". I'd be a fine demon.
Giving up the world to experience what it is to be utterly human, is it worth it? It seemed so. I would have thought so, if there still exist love and happiness in my hea-- that's right, even that itself has been lost.
Aren't we all a little bit cold?
It used to trouble me when I realise I would never be the protagonist in life's incessant tale, but as I come to terms with reality, I no longer uphold the will to rid myself of my antagonistic qualities. A bitch, but still fabulous, still admired, only less noticed than those who shine with goodness. I think it would be full of anger, revenge, and mistakes, my life. Why can I only think of Darth Vader at a time like this? WAE!? YOUR RED LIGHTSABER IS AMAZING ZZIIINNG! Yes, I want to walk around flaunting my flowing cape and paralyze people with fear just by gazing in their general direction. FEAR ME!
Rachel's aspirations at the age of 20:
1. become a demon.
2. become a dragon *coughcoughDeathwingcoughcough*.
3. become Darth Vader.
Instead of wearing light coloured dresses and flowers in my hair, I think I should buy some black clothing, and a cape. Should a person ask if I am in mourning, I would say yes, mourning over the death of myself.
Even I am unsure if I should cry, or laugh at my immaturity. I can only confirm that I cringe at this awful blog post I published.
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