Coding is for Lovers!

work-731198_960_720

Why I Love Coding!

Coding is so fun and amazing. It’s really cool how you can take a flat concept like a website and turn it into a super cool and colorful thing. The amazing part is that you’re never done learning. You will probably never be able to say that you’ve completely mastered coding since there is always something to learn and explore. I am honestly just getting started and I must say that it has become as addicting to me as writing, gaming and guitar.

The Backstory

When I was younger, say around 15ish, my younger brother was a major tech nerd. He was the kind of person who you’d catch reading news on new consoles and technologies. Heck, let’s step out even further by saying he was a complete otaku. And now that I think of it, he actually reminds me of a character from a show we used to watch. Anyway. He started fooling around with coding and told me about it. Back then all I cared about was guitar and I sort of feel bad because of it (considering the circumstances). Hahaha.

Awesomeness

I’m so super excited about this newfound world. I am really interested in seeing where it will end up taking me. I made an entire webpage out of code earlier and felt super sweet and accomplished. All I can do is giggle think of what I’ll be crafting in the next coming weeks, months and years!

XOXO

Lipstick and Open Letters

tumblr_npg9mk4I7u1qfirfao1_1280

She’s always waking up. The bed as much of a mess as her kitchen—knotted and tangled in what seems like a never-ending bunch of madness. Pillows sunken in so terribly they could pass for sheets but she—she is beautiful.

Maybe it’s her long flowing hair. The rosiness of her cheek. The crookedness of her smile. The gap between her two front teeth.

Or perhaps her beauty rests in her complexity. Seeing the world at every angle. Loving even though she is hated. Breathing even though she is suffocating. Working even though she reaps no reward. She is a pitiful idiot. Beautiful, lovely, foolish idiot.

Pressed against her back, a tatty lumberjack flannel t-shirt that was worn to bed. A partially empty glass on her nightstand and a journal with a pen tucked between written pages keeping her place. Awoken by ambition to do the same thing that was done every moment of every day she’d live.

High heels, pencil skirt, lipstick and that letter she held so close to her. Musings of a lover she has yet to meet. His words, his will and his promise. Her dream.

 

 

Kyanna K.