No, I’m sorry to dissapoint you, but she isn’t your typical run of the mill, cookie cutter girl..
She detests the girly demeanor that is expected of her as a self-proclaimed hippie. In fact, she despises it and goes out of her way to prove otherwise as long as it is within ethical boundaries. Her life dosen’t revolve around the evil of Facebook and Twitter and she actually enjoys going out for a good time; not for proving on social media or to create a desirable persona. Free sprited and spontaneous, she goes wherever her whims take her – often on adventourous escapades far away from the bore of daily routine.
Although respectful of tradition, she fails to comprehend the uptight and choking grasp many employ to constrict the liberal. Taking it one step at a time, she sees life a gift, an adventure; pregnant with endless possibilities. Learning to use her perceptions instead of judgement, she is finding the revelation in personal growth both enriching and fufilling.
Occasionally, she headbangs rather wildly to house and electro, violently whipping her luscious, auburn hair in sync with the progressive tunes under blinding strobe lights. Capable of getting dangerously lost in the soothing ocean of her mind to shoegaze, she wades through the dreamy fog, making enlightening personal discoveries that would have otherwise remained hidden. You can also find her screaming and rocking out to indie and alternative at a live concert. Needless to say, she is deeply appreciative of the ingenuity in Gallagher’s musicality, evident in a B-side like “The Masterplan” and not just hopping on to the bandwagon with “Wonderwall”.
She actually appreciates real music. What defines real? Are you not subjected to your own opinion in music because you only enjoy the ear bleeding induced by the top 40 pop charts? – Unfortunately yes, your opinion is invalid (read: wrong).
She would take snarky and witty humour over mawkishly sentimental melodramatic dramas on any given day. She may or may not write poems in her free time, only to deem them unworthy of eye’s other than her own and condemmn it to the deepest stacks of her literary collection.
She’s deathly afraid of existential ennui, but it dosen’t get under her skin because she genuinely loves people for who they are and they love her back just the same.
Then she smiles, just a little.