LiveJournal makes me sad. The only people on here are people from home. Home which is not here. I get on more than once a day, and read the entries of the people I love and long for, which are sad, and I have no advice, no comfort, and no distraction to offer them. I feel like a bad friend, which I probably am ( Read more... )

I'm not sure I'm prepared for this kind of obsession.

Fuck...

...this is exciting!

I'm just going to write and see what I say ( Read more... )

( Super Creepy )

Its midnight. I'm drying my laundry (sheets) with a hair dryer, and I'm mouching pizza. It's offical. I'm in college.

Today, I was able to take the time to fully view the quilt that was made in dedication to the people who died on 9/11. There were squares of fire-fighters, and that said "Proud to be an American," but the ones that touched me the most where those in spanish, and those of a gay couple, and their son, and one with simply a man's name, and the quote " ( Read more... )

1. Go here.
2. Pass it on.
( my answers )

More Emotional ( Read more... )

And I stood waiting for the trolley at the Fenton Parkway stop. Surrounded by upper middle class 30-something apartments behind me, a golf course across the way, and an IKEA - A rehashed neo-classic American dream: socially responsible public transit, urban-esk compact living with fitness centers, and cheap practical some-assembly-required ( Read more... )

I really fucking wish Last night didn't go down like that. Fuck. Just fuck.