My Muse. Hox.

He's pulling an invisible noose around my neck.

He’s pulling an invisible noose around my neck.

Join social networking, they said. It will be fun, they said.

No. It’s actually not that fun. Sure, I get to see things that are cool (though mostly uncool things exist on Instagram, let’s all be honest here #gymselfie#veganfood#idontcare). Let me explain why it’s not fun.

I’m a realist. Which means, in a general sense, that I will always take rationality over unexplainable lunacy. Also I’m a writer and an artist. When I see something Iย see more ย than just it. I’m sure every person has this creative calling, but it’s like a hunger and it makes your tongue go dry.

Sometimes beautiful things exist on that app. Things that inspire my writing. What I don’t like to do is get obsessed. That’s unhealthy, anyone can tell you that.

Well sophisticators, I just spent a whole forty minutes staring at that something beautiful. Going through that person’s entire profile, I think I understand now what it is to have a muse. Funny, I didn’t think that girls usually had muses. Inspirations, yes, but I’ve never had a direct person to influence my writing. Always equated that with Greek poets.

How am I to focus on the important things now?! This was a grave error on my part now. No matter how many of you are giggling and reading this or shaking your heads incredulously at me, I’ll have you know that this isย not cute. I pride myself on being someone who can keep her eyes fixated on the prize. Right now however my eyes are glazed over with random musings from staring at a teeny little iPhone screen for nearly an hour!


Sophisticators, meet model Nikola Jovanovic. Nikola Jovanovic, thank you for inspiring a ranting tirade on my blog. Now excuse me while I go try and fail to finish a novel.

*leaves the building*