Birthday: 01/31
New friends
old friends
Girl:do i ever cross ur mind? Boy:No Girl biggrin o you like me? Boy:Not really Girl biggrin o you want me? Boy:No Girl:would you live for me? Boy:No Girl:would you do anything for me? Boy:No Girl:Choose--me or ur life Boy:my life Then girl runs away in shock and pain and the boy runs after her and says...The reason you never cross my mind is because you're alwawys on my mind.The reason why I don't like you is because I love you.The reason I don't want you is because I need you.The reason I wouldn't cry if you left is because I would die if you left.The reason why I'm not willing to do anything for you is because I would do everything for you.The reason I chose my life is because you ARE my life.
So i found this on a thread and it was so funny i had to put it on my profile. It is 92 percent of the teen population would be dead if Abercrobie and Finch said it wasn't cool to breathe anymore. Put this in your signature/profile if you are one of the 8 percent that would be laughing your head of.
Did you know? Before you go to sleep at night there is 1 person from the opposite rainbow, thinking of you, they want to kiss you, they want to be with you, they're always thinking about you before they go to sleep at night and they are longing to be with you. This is all true not fake. If you repost this on your page within 5 mins, that person who is longing to approach you will approach you in a month and ask you out or grab you and kiss you but if you break this chain no one will like you or ask you out for 45 years
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I do absolutely adore the more abstract and slightly mystical semiotics of seasons, though. Fall and winter are just the underbelly of life: Demeter and Artemis as opposed to the Apollo and Dionysus (talk about an interesting mismatch of a pair, those last two!) of spring and summer. I just prefer fall because I'm a moonlight kind of person; I like summer for gardening, but disdain the sunlight and the warmth of it, and the rather egregiously rambunctious behavior of my fellow human beings.
I didn't do much at all on Skanksgiving, actually. I ended up texting my best friend "******** this s**t! G'night." at around 4:30 PM and went to bed. I have my moods, alas. You don't work in retail, do you?
I'll have to send you some of my special spiced cranberry one of these days. I really don't give a damn about holidays, really; I like fall in a sort of mystical poetic way, but Halloween doesn't do much for me. None of it does, not even May Day now that I've grown increasingly sympathetic to free-market economics. If there were holidays celebrating raptors and corvidae, orcas, and the moon ... well, there is one for the moon, but it's Chinese and I never see anything going on in town relating to it.
I wouldn't be surprised if I spend Skanksgiving polishing my boots, cleaning my walls and ceiling fan, reading Camus, and flying a sign in front of a grocery store out of boredom and a desire for cash.
cat_sweatdrop I was a pretty messed up kid, actually, so the insomnia isn't much of a surprise. I'm still messed up, but calmer and wiser and less tormented and flamboyantly strange. People may think it's cool to be crazy, but it is a miserable experience full of fatigue, misunderstandings, alienation, and even some peril.
I'm very similar when it comes to sleeping, though I've gotten much better as I've grown older: when I was a kid I'd stay up until midnight to two in the morning watching the old movies they used to play before the infomercials arrived, and as a teen and later I'd often stay up until four or five listening to gloomy music and being strange, often inebriated. I still stay up until midnight to one every night, though. emotion_hug So, yeah, I hear ya, and will be presumptuous enough to virtually hug you.
Yesterday's chicken pot pies I made for my building proved to be a huge hit, though I was very tired and kind of grumpy because I was tired and slightly hung over. Yeah, I was up until four the night before. I'd offer you some but you're too far for me to deliver it to you in person, which is the only proper way to offer culinary delights to friends, lovers, or even beautiful or congenial strangers, I firmly believe.
What's been preoccupying your time, anyway? If I may ask. I'm super tired, so I'm resorting banal communication patterns. You can forgive me, or I suppose you can beat me. Just not with an orca flipper, please.