(the following entry has been pulled like organs and body parts from a dead journal of mine who checked organ donor on the back of it's license)
things have been confusing lately, to say the very least.
i feel like i'm hanging at the tip of the cigarette, where the embers slowly glow, burning wild passion, then drifting for the floor.
last monday
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you kept saying look at your lj, but i can't seee the pictures. and you're not answering your phone. so i'm sitting with my ghetto roommate, she's putting up posters of b2k, lil bow wow, nick cannon, and omarion. it's the "wall of sexy".
love you, taylor
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