it smells like coffee here. the heat is actually regulated. there's food in the frige, and clean sheets on my bed. i'm home. it's more contagious here, though. i sat in my bed for a good three hours feeling that sickness. that longing. i played a game to distract myself, but i ran over in my head about 100 times what it would say if i wrote
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Thanks for a great time last night, a great gift, and everything else. :)
"Fuck guys, I just want to stand in a circle around our pocket books and shoes...And I just want to express myself through the art of dance."
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when i need to think about [insert good things here] i'll just think about this:
"it's my birthday."
"it's your birthda- hang on!" ::pulls phone out of pocket::
"hello? do you have any left-over birthday cakes? ... it says Lynne on it? L-Y-N-N-E?? THAT'S PERFECT! send it over!"
:oD
"so when's the cake coming?"
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