"What is a blog exactly?"
"Uh, it's like an online journal."
"And people actually read that?"
"Uhm... I guess"
That, in fact, was a conversation with myself.
An online journal, huh. So I like, talk about myself.
BUT I DO THAT ALL THE TIME.
that sounds like I have a huge ego and I just might but it's not the kind of thing you go on promoting about yourself so please don't read it that way.
On Instagram: (dude, I think the 100happydays shit is really working. Like, what the fuck. Freud and the Dalai Lama have taken over IG.)
And on Snapchat (@anaruizbooger), Whatsapp, like, all that shit.
My Mom is getting really mad at all my cussing.
I get mad when she calls it "unfeminine."
I gave her a sunflower yesterday.
They're my favourite flower.
Yesterday, in Catalunia, was Love Day; and people gifted each other books and flowers.
IN THE REST OF THE WORLD, FOR STUPID ST. VALENTINE'S, WE GIFT EACH OTHER STUPID E-CARDS AND BAD MENTAL STABILITY.