A new one may surface but I'm not sure yet. I've grown quite fond of putting the pen to paper and licking stamps and shit. I want to write letters to
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I LOVE YOUR FACE. I'll miss you(r journal) but I totally understand, I'm feeling a bit the same about keeping mine lately. We will definitely write and email and you'll send me songs and it will be amazing. Trust.
To get over her fear of her songs being recorded and/or sung by other people, the girl records her music on a tape recorder she used for her English oral assignment in high school. It's very old and she sounds very bad at times but she is fervent in continuing to sing about canary birds and a woman named Lee in that one song.
No one is going to hear this tape I'm working on, but I'm so fucking excited about it. Actually I may make you a copy. Maybe. You've heard the other shit so this cannot be worse. And if it is, I apologise profusely.
That is quite difficult for me to believe. You have Stephen. I'm just a framed picture on the wall in your life now. It's kind of good that you never got those text messages I sent. The things I said to you, they would have upset you.
I hate this journal. I don't even feel like trying to update it properly anymore. I promise you, this will be the last time I change journals. It's a bitch trying to come up with a username.
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No one is going to hear this tape I'm working on, but I'm so fucking excited about it. Actually I may make you a copy. Maybe. You've heard the other shit so this cannot be worse. And if it is, I apologise profusely.
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But I don't want to talk about it.
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Anyway, I donated it to a wedding charity shop.
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Hey, meet me in the city one day.
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We can go to the MCA together.
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