Every blog has to have that classic list of favourites, top tens, and other narcissistic devices. I didn’t think I’d write one ever. Period. This being impersonal and all that. But ahh…conformity, I give into you. Also I love lists, and this eco chapter is irredeemable anyways.
So here goes. Favourites.

My favourite colour is white, though arguably that’s not a colour at all. Who’s to tell.

My favourite flowers are Madonna lilies, white orchids, hydrangeas and orange passion flowers.

My favourite flavour is chocolate.

I love things spicy. Very spicy.

One of my favourite pastimes (among many, lest I appear to have no life ) is reading blogs, and things online, being a troll and being a self appointed somewhat pompous critic of stage drama, and visual arts in general. You see I believe I have vast experience in the watching of movies and theatre to know the good from the terrible.

I love people who write well. A well written thought provoking or witty piece of narrative turns me on :)

I plan to visit all of Europe one day. Join me.

After I graduate I plan on going to Calgary and Hong Kong. Calgary – to make money. Hong Kong – Asians will take over the world, and Hong Kong will be the new world capital. And I plan on being there.

I used to be naïve about love and relationships, and I thought I was being cool by being angsty and tortured….and well wretched all the time. I realized its not cool, and just plain annoying.

I detest when people say bitch all the time. Like, do me bitch, hate me, I’m cool, bitch, I ain’t Indian, bitch. Overused.

I once sat through a toastmaster’s competition, and was blown away by the intellectual snobbery concentrated in the room. There is something fascinating in watching people on the same wavelength expound theories and conceptualize abstract ideas. It is all very intangible and slightly vague and supremely satisfying.

I love being alone. No, truly, I do. A residual feeling from my angst filled days I used to think, but no, I just prefer aloneness.

I have immense respect for Fidel Castro, Toni Morrison, Kahlil Gibran, Guy Allen, mujerista theologians and Latino dancers. There is something breathtaking and awe inspiring in watching rhythm in motion, in watching music consume you and move you. Move you to tears, literally.

Reggae is my lover. Its also my dirty little secret.

I fear water with a deep inconsolable dread. Yet I love the ocean. If I could choose how I was born, or where I would die, it would be in the ocean.

My happiest memories are of the beach and travelling.
People on subways fascinate me. Epic motion pictures could be made on the emotions expressed by subway travellers. I love the instant snapshots of reality and humanity it offers.

I fell in love with the guitar, because I fell in love with a boy.

People I met on the internet, know more about me, and are closer to me than people I’ve known my whole life. Some of them saved me. Truly, they awoke that low burning fire for Him, and stoked the flames. For that I am grateful.

If I could redo one thing in my life, I would stop being a compulsive liar. I don’t lie all the time, I truly don’t, but on the occasion that I do, I forget that it’s a lie.

I thought North Americans, and bloggers and writers were narcissists, and it used to bother me. Now it doesn’t because there’s a narcissist in all of us, waiting to get out.
A universal sin stops being a sin.

It took me ten minutes to write this and 20 minutes to read 5 lines on economic inequality.

Fate is biased. And unfair. That’s why I don’t believe in fate. I refuse to let it be my excuse for not doing things, or doing things that I could control.

If there was one thing I really wanted to learn from my mother, it would be to learn to understand another person so completely, that even if his child was identical to him, to still love the two as separate entities.

I am in deep shit for tomorrows midterm.