would mean imaginations, sitting on rooftops, real sleepovers. knowingly naive but courageous, our small egos lit up the town. the only certainties were that pancakes are best enjoyed in a graveyard, and we would be together forever.
I've been thinking, and I'm going to be upset when we get to that point in our lives when friends aren't the most important thing. Well, hopefully it will never happen...we'll probably all end up divorced anyway. That sounds somewhat depressing, but it's all in the spirit of YaYa.
i could talk about how much i hate model UN or copy some sweet lyrics or write some metaphor only meant for certain people to understand or bitch someone out and add to the drama pool...but... i just want to ask...how are you doing?
and theres nothing that can replace the feeling of mowing a lawn. its kind of like disneyland...but on a smaller