January 2010
10 posts
well well well
you fucked me up and you fucked me up good. i bet you sit there in your parent’s house gleaming over how good you have me, and her, and how it will always be this way. paradise, eh? well, congradufuckinglations. and thank god holidays are over for a while.
inconvenient timing
that’s for damn sure. it crept in, like a mouse looking for cheese, like a new scent to one’s nose. the feeling crept in and nestled right into her heart, the last place it thought to look, the last.
1 tag
music.
The best songs are the ones without words. The ones that you can determine the meaning of. Without lyrics, endless possibility. They can draw you to the nearest source of hope, or bring you back to your hopelessness. I hear the notes and automatically, poof, words in my head.
2 tags
“Lies are attempts to hide the truth by willfully denying facts. Fiction, on the...”
– John Green