some say she’s a maverick. she refuses to play by the rule, she’d rather create her own rule. not that much of a rebel, just a bit free-spirited by heart.

some say she’s a square peg in a round hole. a black dress amidst a wedding party. ripped jeans among trousers. a pair of sneakers among pairs of high heels. a cup of tequila between white wines. but really, she’s only a misfit. she has always been one. an unorthodox individual living in a world where people must be the same in order to be freed of scrutiny. she isn’t afraid to cross the line of conformity. even ever since she was little, she has always frowned upon the game of pretentious act that people around her have been playing. she often finds herself in question, for she is non-adhering to the idea of being a sheep flocking to the herd.

some say she’s the epitome of late night shots taken by the distressed. not as the last, desperate resort, but as the first aid.

some say she’s the embodiment of the bitter aftertaste when you sip a cup of coffee that you got from a store stood on the roadside during your impromptu midnight road trip. she shows up by chance, looking plain as ever. but really, she’s a mild surprise once she gets her way into you. one that you might not expect.

some say she’s a thorn wire disguised in vineyard. it isn’t quite easy to strip away of her self-defense. but once she’s provoked, she’s provoked.

some say she’s a train wreck. and boy, weren’t they right. her life might be a mess, but it is one hell of a beautiful mess she’s proudly living. if anything, she has mastered the art of living in perpetual, concomitant tragedies.

some say she’s more of a goodbye than a hello. a bittersweet memory than a sugarcoated present. she’s never one of a dreamer, but she puts her hopes in the beauty of imperfections – of the feeling of loss. experience has taught her not to make people her happiness, for they are but a fleeting moment of enchantment.