I've been doodling since I was ten, published my first flimsy poem a year later in the school magazine, and a couple such stints in high school, an editorial position with the publication by the student's society, and several calculated Facebook notes later, I think blogging might actually be long overdue.
Especially when you're someone who's thinking about stem cells one instant, Narciso Rodriguez the next.
Especially when you devour a Ruskin Bond, Paulo Coehlo or Kafka with the same voracity as a Thomas Friedman or a Malcolm Gladwell.
Especially when you can't do without regulated exercise, but you'd rather practice pointy toes and straight torsos dancing Latino and do those laps without foregoing the underwater cartwheels.
Unfortunately in a world where compartments are the best solution for information processing or storage or whatever else, I'm still looking for a haven for a jack of all trades.
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