mileenial blogs

  let's talk humour. Relativity. What is humour to you might be offensive to others, or so we have been told and taught to respect. But what is dark humour really? Urban Dictionary believes it to be  A form of humor involving a twist or joke making the joke seen as offensive, harsh, horrid . But is that it really? This is the 21 st century. The society as a whole is well on it’s way for a sociological revolution, and with a growing intolerance, and rightfully so, to otherwise celebrated social evils. One can no more get away with racism, bigotry or sexism in the name of dark comedy or humour. Dark humour styles are associated with low interpersonal competence, particularly with poor ability to perceive other people’s emotions . Therefore, it is possible that individuals poor in the perception of emotions tend to use humour in compromising ways, because they do not (appropriately) interpret the target’s emotional feedback, or so it is said and believed. Humour can be attai...

 chapter 3 ghosts of highschool Mindy's POV I wake up the next morning with my earphones still plugged and my neck sore. I hadn’t realized I slept off on the couch while… thinking. I get up, wash my face and make myself some much-needed coffee. Stirring, I go out to my verandah and inhale the fresh morning air. I set my coffee down for it to cool and rub my sore neck. *ting* It’s a new text. I hurry to check my phone, hoping its Riadne. Much to my familiar disappointment, it is not. It’s an unknown number. Who is this? Fuck. Its Mark. I mean, it's M for Mistake.  Regrettably enough I DO remember you. You are basically what I call regret in its worst sense.  That is exactly what I don't want to remember, Mark William. I see him typing... and quickly flip  my screen off.  Mark was the last thing I would want to deal with right now. I check the text thread one last time out of pure impulse and immediately regret it. I roll my eyes. How typical . I get rea...

chapter 2 escape operation @ Pam's  Mindy’s POV Oh God, the day is finally here. Here I am at our mutual favorite, the Pam's café , waiting for her to enter through the swinging door any minute. I mean, I have been waiting for months,   but I can't help but wonder if it even is a good idea. What if I mess up? What if we don’t connect personally the way we do on text? I stir my coffee, lost in my endless circles of  what ifs . Just then someone nudges my hand off my chin and I loose balance.   “Dude, you good?”   Trisha asks with a concerned face and I am backed to reality. I was so nervous, of course I brought her along. She is my best friend, AND my back up just in case I chicken out and need an escape plan. I nod, staring blankly into my now-empty Pam's paper cup. “You’re gonna be fine dude. She seems like a decent human being. At least she won’t complain about your mood swings like that hideous ex of yours”, she teases. “You set me up with him you d...

chapter 1 maybe i'm in love idk Mindy’s POV I am not exactly sure WHEN it is that I fell for her, all I know is I have. Really, really hard. I mean, how could I not. She looks angelic. Was and is the sweetest ever. And I cant really put a finger on when it happened, but   god am I in love. The type where each new notification of her text sends goosebumps of anticipation down my spine. The type where each mention of her name makes me feel lightheaded. The type when I would find myself reading through our conversations, over and over again. I'm not entirely sure if a person could possibly BE that lovesick before even meeting a person. But guess what, I had. And that sucked. Bad.                                                                         23:10, Saturday ...

  hang on hang on hang on so in case you're wondering ugh another basic lesbian story? maybe, maybe not. i mean yes it definitely is a story involving an accidental Instagram DM that leads up to a twisted mess of unfortunate events shadowed by a troubled past but; that is for you to judge. sit back, and read on.  updating every monday and thursday. 

hi its me milee   yep so thats me,   milee . yes, a citygirl with a heart solely composed of old school romanticism. It’s a lousy Sunday afternoon and I'm scrolling through my gallery with pictures of friends and foes I once used to know and love, of pictures of an insecure self, hidden behind sorts and layers of snapchat filters that could trick  the target audience into viewing my life as one of perfection. I was 13, when I first googled diets and workout routines to morph myself into models who popped up on my Instagram feed.  I knew love, I did; to my 14 year old self, love was what I made out of Pinterest couple-goal photoshoots and videos of fancy weddings. I knew love to be a compilation of hashtags and publicity stunts, and feelings I convinced myself into believing I never deserved. How could I? I was far from perfection, or whatever it was I thought was perfection. Friends and families I forced onto myself to lead that one perfect lifestyle the in...