It’s time to go to bed. Quite late, I know, almost midnight. I am about to finish my new article for Wannabe Magazine . What can I do if my inspiration is on the highest level in the evening? Nothing. Just enjoy being creative, as usual. Who cares about the time? Maybe my pillow does care, which is constantly reminding me that I should have been in bed hours before. Ok. It’s time for a cup of warm milk and a lullaby. Instead of it, as my radio is always on, there is some music on. No milk.
Everywhere in my room, there is something of my favorite color. Pink. Actually, even my wall is pink. Pillows on the bed are pink, one to be precise. Even a Hello Kitty on the night table has something pink. Pink reminds me on the lovely graduation joke my friends made. I was forced to walk around our university in that horrible pinkish dress and I had that strange pink thing on my head. I should have never admitted that pink was my color. Never ever. But those devils knew. As my dad knows. Yesterday I got pink ballerinas, very nice but pink slippers with a ribbon on, a present from him. I can’t deny. I WAS SO SO HAPPY! I’m still. What a fun going here and there with those lovely slippers on. And what’s the most important, they are, of course, pink!
What my life would look like without that PINK mania? Probably would not be the same.
Emy Pink Ristovic (Sounds nice, isn’t it?)
|My lovely pink ballerinas|