My words irritate me. I wish I could write simply, concisely. I want sentences like bullets, not butterflies fluttering aimlessly. I can barely stand to read the mess of diction and syntax, which pours out of me in paltry prose. I choke on every adjective ( Read more... )

The stars must have stumbled out of alignment.

( I miss Joey. )

Dawn, with her curiously punctual wanderlust, was a welcome light this morning. The sandman must have been rationing his crushed pearls, and not sprinkled quite enough into my eyes-- I awoke under the silver moon and watched the snow reflecting its fading light. It was like a dream, perhaps it was, the only anomalies were the crimson taillights, ( Read more... )

Golden globes --> Stunning.

I love Teri, and Uma looked amazing as usual.

Mmmm, Jesse. I listened to his CD all weekend.

Don't want this love to go to waste / I want you and your beautiful soul.

[Edit, because I forgort to show you my pretty picture!]

Complements of Lindsay,

( Read more... )

I have fallen in love with Isabel Allende. Thank you so much, C. She is the most talented writer I have ever stumbled upon, it is a privilege to read her words.

( Prom was mentioned, and I remembered how much I want to wear this dress: )

So, I talked to a special someone named Joe today (the art institute boy). <3. Depending on Mr. Jonathan, perhaps it could go somewhere? I don't see any reason why not. He just seems so solid, like someone I could rely on. I need a friend with stability. It is difficult for me to obtain, because usually they lose interest; and when they don't ( Read more... )

I can feel your disgust, I can smell it, I can see the the plumes rise and dissipate into nothing- much like our pseudo relationship, all faux fur and glue-on sequins, counterfeit. You were never a good actor, but I don't think you bothered to try all that much. It was simply a game of yours. The kind that requires little effort to cleanup- fold ( Read more... )

( Love is stronger than pride, and the latter seems non-existent at the moment. )

Sixth grade, post pigtails and leggings- the year I fell in love with Chris ( Read more... )

I don't think happiness is achievable- it's too conceptual and I don't understand it and I try so hard and I can't find it and I don't want to do this alone and I am giving up.

( You are nothing, no more than an inconvenience- as insignificant as a cough. )