This picture still kills me. He’s so fucking perfect. God.
You know what i just needed this on my blog again okay bye
Remnants of my celebration!
I keep trying to make the fact that I’m already 18 sink in, but so far it still hasn’t. I know a lot of people consider me mature for my age (dating 14 ako sabi niyo pang-24 na ‘yung utak ko; ngayong 18 na ako, pang-28 na ba), but I still see myself as a kid most of the time. Or a kid-at-heart, anyway.
So now I’m legally an adult, huh. Thank you so much to all who remembered and for all the greetings! I can’t thank you all personally one by one, so here’s a big kiss for you all. Haha! 💋
This is my first ever Harry Potter book. Nope, my 11 year old self didn’t get the first book—I decided to buy the fourth, Goblet of Fire, because I wanted to see if the excitement in this one was enough to make me buy the first three. I ended up collecting all the books, but this copy is much closer to my heart, not because I like its story best, but because it’s the one that started my love affair with the wizarding world. Those well worn pages and fraying edges are proof of the countless late childhood nights I spent getting lost in the spells and adventures. I was, and still am, until the very end, a true blue Potterhead. :-) ⚡️ #throwback #tbt #HarryPotter #GobletofFire
I’m not perfect. My eyes always look sleep deprived. I have freckles on the wrong places. My lips are always dotted with chew marks. My cheeks are too round. My hands are always dirty from paint and pencil smudges, an artist’s hands. I bite my nails all the time. I’m not thin, I’m chubby, every inch of my body rounded off and not beautifully angled like a model’s. My legs are too short. My hair never cooperates with me when I want it to.
I’m not perfect. I snort when I laugh. And when I start laughing, it takes me forever to stop. I cry over sappy movies and tv shows and yes, sometimes even commercials. I eat too much junk food. I’m afraid of butterflies and porcelain dolls and wide, empty spaces. I talk too loud, and sometimes exaggerate the things I say. I scream when I’m frustrated. I have the attention span and patience of a 2-year-old and the memory of a goldfish. I suck at math. As in, REALLY suck. I’m lazy, and I procrastinate a lot.
I’m not perfect. I smoke, drink and go to parties. I go home late. I make bad decisions 90% of the time. I’ve made a lot of stupid and grave mistakes. I don’t think of my actions, I act impulsively and recklessly. My moods change constantly, and without warning. I have my moments of depression, times when I shut everyone out. I have a lot of walls around me, but I still always end up trusting the wrong people. I’m insecure, and selfish, and hard-headed. I have a short temper. I’ve hurt people and I’ve gotten hurt and broken and trampled over so many times I’ve lost count. I’m not always a good friend. Or a good daughter, or a good person, in general.
I’m not perfect, but it’s okay because I don’t try to be. I’m not perfect and I’m happy with the way I am: messed-up, but with plenty of space for improvement. I’m okay with taking baby steps toward not being perfect, but being a better person. In my own way.
I’m not perfect, but at least I know who I am.
…and also spent it with @acealejandrooo ! Hi Bits! Thank you sa chocolate 😽
(No Lindal cos nabadtrip siya samin hihi ✌️)