I'm feeling that I should probably explain today why I spent a good whole five minutes meowing at the back of Cafe Nero. For now however I should say that have come to the apparent conclusion that I think the world, non, the universe is probably split into two simple different species. Nail biters and Non nail biters. ( God, that was an attractive sentence just then.) I used to be part of the latter [the dark] side. Untill my post-stress head said one morning, 'screw, it. I am free and can be anything I wish. I wish to be a non nail biter and then president. But first non nail biter, as I figure that will be easier than becoming president.' But recently have been feelin' that president of a country where I don't reside or know anything about would be significantly easier than being a non nail biter. For it doesn't come withut it's difficulties. To elaborate, I'm thinking some background information about your writer is needed here.
According to the hundered million personality, numerolgy, colour-ogy, vocation finding type test on le interweb, they have all concluded that I am some idealist intense creature most likely to write poetry and slash or paint a pretty picture before falling into a slow and deeply pit of self created depression.* Charming, maybe though albeit abusingly accurate. [..] So only it naturally stands that am crazy-lady stress-head, created at birth to become panic-y Nail Biter. Excellent.
But anyway, back to what I was typing. Apologies L. Gaga, I was not born this way, I will break out box and out my mould to become stress free woman-with-talons. Unfortunate side affects of this are: drumming on every surface I find my fingers. Tho this is mostly stair rails and in human company, much to the annoyance of well, every fellow human. Also scratching. Not in the 'don't steal my chips or I will avenge you' kind of way, but more in examples such like, my laptop has raised little lines, upon which I have begun to form guitar like melodies. Growing long nails makes one very musical, what with the drumming and harmonies 'n all. It is with this reason I feel I have benefited from being a non nail biter.
Other reason include (several many paragraphs down and I have finally got to the point of the post, yey at me) having pretty nails to show off at people, show off your non nail biting skills. Unfortunatley, this does not work for me, as I have probably mentioned, to the right somewhere, that nail polish on my ten fingers makes my fingers age approximatley ten thousand years. I feel as if I should be brandishing a quails egg wand or similiar, as described in the Harry Potter Olivander bits. Complete with warts and a drowning disposition. Well, I am halfway there at least.
I have also realised, several words and characters down this post, that the pretty pics I put with this post are of people with short nails, who are the nail biters of the universe. Boo. But maybe they are non nail biters who groom them as to not be drumming and strumming everywhere. Oo, I like it.
These people also drink pastel matching milkshakes and eat whole meal sandwhich lunches. Or they where hardcore metal bling and fondle what looks to be faded nineties pictures of Leo Dicaprio. Either way the non nail biter lives sound like the way to go. I'll leave that to you lovely readers to decide.
Quote of the post: 'Always laugh when you can. It is cheap medicine' -Lord Byron, Keep Calm and Carry On book. (special mensh to Chris for this one)
* Personal summary evaluated from the following: INFP (Myers-Briggs) AIS (Holland Career Interest) Violet (That thing they did in the Daily Express the other day)
Images via: studded hearts, you are my fave, mad voodoo queen, tumblr,
:) Emmy xo
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