The last time I was adamant about one of these things was around the same time that I was fanatically obsessed with Delias catalogs and MTV Real World/Road Rules shows. It seems as though you never grow out of the things you love. You age, and foolishly, you realize that name-brand tags are not indicative to securing a date, nor is the opportunity of having your life taped with seven, phony strangers going to make you any more popular. You age and your passions in life are steady; the hunger and obsession remains the same.
I've out grown the Cosmopolitan phase ages ago, but have never out grown my fervish desire and LOVE for writing. Hand me a pen and paper and I stand impervious.
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