Dec 09, 2003 16:25
I'm in a mood almost all of the time lately where I really don't feel like talking about music, or anything, so technically. I want to lean over to my record player, slip one on, and say, "Listen to this.. it's perfect."
Soon enough, all good rap will be directed to an audience of geeky white kids. Not that I'm complaining.
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Comments 10
Things are getting worse.
Don't know about you, but life is a black kid in a tree.
* Love you like whoah. *
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OUR love is like whoah.
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Life in general. But that's always been worse.
But now I'm supposed to go away again. And I've got those crazy colors on my skin. And I'd been fine for a month. I'm just thinking too much.
I love you puppy!
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And by go away you mean staying at my house and I'll be like a mom and cuddle you up in a blanket and feel you healing soup like a hippie. I hope when you say crazy colors.. you mean the Clorox or whatever rash.
I have a billion little pinkies and I want to split them red again.
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I didn't mean that in a bad way, by the way. It's just I've never met anyone else who actually kenw who they were.
I thought my visual art teacher said he liked Blind Melon and I was really excited because I've never met another fan of theirs, either, but then he said "yeah, I like blues," so I realized he actualyl said Blind Lemon (Jefferson). Eh.
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I cherish my Blind Melon CD. That was funny.
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