Supposedly, I'm a 22-year-old writer who is currently living in Oxford. I nowadays think of it as my home, although my mother still prefers when I call Sweden home, instead of England. I shouldn't even call myself a writer because I've never been able to finish anything in my life.
I’m addicted to coke (the drink, not the drug). I’ve always secretly (and sometimes not-so-secretly) wanted to become a ballerina but now I’m too old. Everyone keeps telling me that I was born in the wrong decade, but they can’t seem to decide whether I belong in the 40s, 50s, or 70s, I usually say I’m a hippie at heart though. My skin crawls if too much time passes by without me being alone for a while.
I had an E.T. doll when I was younger; I used to put dresses on it and loved it unconditionally without having seen the movie. I have a to-do-list for my life, and each year it seems to grow longer instead of shorter. I don’t know if that’s good or bad. I’d love to go on tour with a band, but not for their music but because that’s the only way I’ll ever go on tour anywhere. Alas, it is what it is. I guess this is my latest bell jar.
Email / g-talk: fridha[at]gmail.com
Aim: Johnnypanic63
I'm a sucker for spontaneous emails.
Jun 30
It’s all kinds of scary, but also very exciting.
It’s so shiny and new! :D
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