Banana Republic.

Barbecued to death in a burning building because of failure to evacuate when the fire alarm goes off, due to the assumption that it is just another drill.

I began documenting details of my not-very-evenftul life at the age of 10, in a book with the words “Secret Diary” and “Do Not Read Without Permission” scrawled across the cover. Clearly my idea of trust back then was completely different than it is now, that I thought a written warning would suffice to keep nosey people out. Altogether I had about 5 written diaries, which became more non-descript looking as the volumes progressed, before I switched to an online diary on Blogger. Before Blogger, I had a short fling with Diaryland but Blogger evolved into a long-term relationship. I have shut down that blog but I have not closed the account, so occasionally I will log in to read my past entries. It is frankly quite shocking how open I was in revealing details of my life during the early days of blogging. My entries became increasingly cryptic as time goes by, and now this WordPress is a manifestation of my aversion to airing my laundry, dirty or not, online (I air my dirty laundry elsewhere though, hurhur. Hi to those who are privy to it!). Lately I am lazy to write something here, so now everything is in my head. I feel like I should write down everything and anything that happens, just in case I lose my memory one day. Actually more so because I am a sentimental fool and I have a bad habit of hoarding. We’ll see, maybe I’ll get back to updating regularly, even if it’s about the most mundane stuff. This space, is afterall mine.