Mawah meenon ne le plus poohlala," I say with an affected bow.

There are no wrong decisions ― only different ones.

My misery is reaching epidemic proportions.

I feel like I swallowed a Magritte. Like on the inside, I'm made of clouds and floating eyes, green apples, and slowly rising men in bowler hats.

She's no beauty, mate

I'm just saying it's not all sand castles and ninjas.

All things are possible.