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23 in 70 hours.


I'll be 23 in 70 hours. Uggh!
I like being 22. I can do things claiming that I'll never be 22 and damn Taylor Swift's song. 
So here is what it is, I have 70 hours. What can I do with the last 70 hours of my 22?!
Maybe go out and be more broke? No. Don't go there.
Sit and watch friends again? That's doable. But that's the routine.
Work?
Yeah right, walked right into that one didn't we 😂.
FYI that was sarcasm. Give me a break. I'm transitioning into 23. I have no clue. So be kind.
Grateful for the things that happened this year.
I read a quote, " At the end of the day, no one is responsible for your happiness" and it hit hard. 
I did a few mistakes. Made some mess. But everything was mine. I made decisions and I don't regret them because those things made me happy and I want to be happy.
To all the messy and all the heartfelt decisions - cheers!
To a dramatic life and being the main character of my life - cheers!
To own my body and the flaws it flaunts - cheers!
To things that happened and things that aren't gonna happen - Cheers!
Of all the things I can do in the 70 hours, I decided not to plan. I decided to go with the flow for the next three days. Because I need to answer this life to myself and not to my parents or sibling or strangers or let alone some lame-ass human lurking in the vicinity of my vibe.
Fuck!
Fuckk!!
Fuckkk!!!
I'm turning 23.
I don't know what it has for me but it's definitely not getting married. 
Yeah, so you can shut it. Maybe better shove it.
All I know is that I am turning into a strong yet weak, pretty yet sometimes petty, beautiful but doesn't believe it, soulful yet heartless, dangerous yet no soo dangerous ..mmhmm... vicious lady.
So yeah. The universe can bring it on because I have like tons of tissue boxes and someone else's Netflix subscription to watch sad and Christmas movies and TCS gives me a salary every month for icecream.
Ready or not?
Here I come.
Jo hoga. Hoga. Jo nahi hoga.Dekha jayega.
Aite aitad lekunte led. Zandu balm toh mundu veltuna.

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