I always say…
well I don’t always say this but it would be something to always say; like a reminder.
“why get lost in the idea of what you could be…get lost in what THAT is”
I really don’t want to give too MUCH away. I would just rather you get to know me. This journey that I have embarked on is one for the books. I really don’t know my next step but it’s going to be a great step. *Sigh* Welp let’s go…
I am Hrsh Reyalitee
No, my first and last name is no secret.
No, I am not one of those mysterious people.
This is just what I do. I’ll tell you my name…if you want to know it.
School, I hate it with a passion. It’s not that I’m lazy, I just feel as though I am too smart. ::Kanye Shrugs::
Yes. You read correctly, I am too smart for school. I think I behold all of the necessary skills needed to be successful and live a happy and complete life.
However, because I’m too smart for school, and feel as though I can make it just fine without it…I am a college student.
I was born in the Bronx
I was raised in Brooklyn
I’ve lived in New Jersey
Hofstra Student…for now (lol)
I am 21, and I am Her.
Writing loves me back, and i am grateful.
Relationships are very interesting to me.
Liberal. Be afraid :-P
I’m scared of Regrets, nothing else and this is my problem…I’m not afraid of anything ELSE!
I am not perfect. I grew up in the church and need a 1 way ticket back, (One of the reasons I hate college. My mind is a magnificent piece of work). I was a devoted Christian, deep in the faith and completely engulfed in the word of God.
Then, I came to college and I refuse to let my ignorance hold me back from embracing the hand held world around me. No I don’t mean hand held like my BLACKBERRY. Hand held as in I can touch it, taste it, feel it, hear it, See it. Be a witness to it’s eyes, because the eyes never lie, they just don’t.
Let’s get personal, I was adopted.
I hate to say that sometimes because I feel like now you just tilted your head and said “aawww”…please don’t.
It’s apart of life. Some people can handle it and some people can’t. However, when the I tried-factor is present it makes it that much easier to deal with.
Birth mother; young, black or Hispanic (Fact says Hispanic but I don’t even know so how could “Fact”. I know my skin is brown and that’s it) used drugs, tried to care for me while in a shelter but couldn’t. She took me to a agency. Some time later after a few foster homes I was adopted and the rest is history to be cherished and is what I am forever grateful for.
Birth Moms, if you were to EVER some how see this. I Love You and I thank you, God Bless You. I hope I made this blood running in my vein PROUD.
With that said.
I love my senses. I need to be able to see things and have them in front of me to believe it.
All my life, I’ve heard small details about ME, my background, what I did, what I went through, my birth mother and how the whole story went down. But that’s it…I feel as though sometimes everything was just TOLD TO ME, I have nothing to confirm any of these stories.
We’ll continue that at a later date.
So with all aspects of life,
I guess you can call me hand held.