on 2004-06-29 @ 1:49 p.m.
Everyone is a hopeless romantic. Deep down somewhere in the pits of their little hearts. Whether they like it or not. Ha. At least I have the guts to admit it.
I am a hopeless romantic.
And may you kill me for it. How am I suppose to get to my freaken violin lesson in this weather. This stinks. I wonder if our kites have been struck by lightning. Wouldn't that be something. I hope they're still hanging on. I've yet to take a picture. How many years can those flimsy pieces last anyway? Cheap Chinese kites... are so damn wonderful.
All that's keeping me from giving it up are my damn morals. Not that anyone is there. No one is here. Ha. What a revelation. How sarcastic can I be... Am I sarcastic? I can't tell. I don't think so. Not really. That's the honest truth. Every unlikely remark has an ounce of truth to it. Sometimes, it's a whole damn gallon.
Curses sounds really nice sometimes. I don't know why.
Damn near erotic.
That sounded nice. I don't even want to know why I wrote that. Maybe it's just the workings of a hormonal fifteen year old. I've always wondered if there needed to be hyphens. I probably won't know what I'm talking about when I refer back to this ten years later. How long does computer ink last on paper? How long before all memories fade?
No one on this Earth knows. And that saddens me just a little.
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