| this entry's dedicated to me, yes, me. completely vane, but that's what blogs are for: to coddle our fragile esteems. okay that was unnecessarily pessimistic and melodramatic; i don't really believe that. it didn't even sound remotely good but whatever. whatever. sounds like it should be such a hopeful word, but instead it's just, nasty. and snarky. and all that good stuff. i'm so screwed in college. now now darling, don't lose your head... |
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| Following the tradition of die-hard bad habits, here's one (one what?) dedicated to me. I like late nights because the thoughts free-flow and leave me passive. Not that I'm active during the day; pandas are more productive. My days are my thoughts, fractured with improper punctuation, pointless and overwhelmingly dull. Inner-conversations have become frustratingly slow; for once, desk is more organized than thoughts, and on this desk are day-old earl-grey, emergency red, and ... a wet dish cloth. gross. then there's seized opportunity, signature scent of insatiable craving, and very stale coffee. ugh and Crimson rejection. I should probably get my act together. |
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| this ought to be exciting. |
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| So, er uhm... anyone from the Virginia Beach area want to be friends? or um, acquaintances? Does anyone actually live in Virginia Beach?! I'm going to be lonely, so lonely. |
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