but mashed, they’re PURPLE??
AND WHEN SKINNED, WE SEE THE INSIDES ARE GREEN?????
WHAT THE EVERLIVING FUCK, BLUEBERRIES?!
today i said to my friend “i haven’t had a go-gurt in a really long time” AND HE LOOKED REALLY LOST?? AND I EXPLAINED TO HIM WHAT A GO-GURT WAS AND HE SAID “OH IN CANADA WE CALL THOSE TUBES”
BUT ITS YOGURT ON THE GO
CANADA IM SO S ICK OF UR SHIT
#sorry if we dont want our yogurt sounding like a std
ah, yes,i can hear the confusion between the words Hepatitis and go-gurt
So I wrote this a few weeks ago but I’ll just post this on here since I haven’t written anything here for a while:
April 14, 2013
So since weeks ago, he’s been hinting that he has a surprise for me. Since we’re both composers, I assumed that maybe he was writing a song…
He invited me to go with his two other friends up to his room to play me his surprise. Once there, floor 14, he made a beeline for his guitar. Quite typical. His two friends crash on the bed watching a soap opera, while I awkwardly sit on the office chair. Meanwhile, he’s already started tuning. I start to say, “Did you write..?” Then the oh so familiar tune jolted my whole being. My mouth drops open, and my eyes almost well up with tears. A Sea of Stars. He had listened to my composition probably ad nauseum to transpose it from piano to guitar. To play it on guitar. To play it for me.
If you’re not a composer, you probably don’t understand the emotional impact…but up until then, I had never heard another soul play one of my pieces. That brings an instant intimate connection between performer and composer. It was an absolute out of body experience. Since I was indeed the one who wrote the piece, I began to think while he was playing, “Oh my gosh, how will he do the next part? Will he do it?”
He played it. He hit every single note.
It brings a special, profound, emotional tie between us that I probably will never be able to describe accurately, however, that warmness will always be there.
It’s strange to think that our closeness began with lying beneath “a sea of stars” and was perpetuated on by a moment that took up a minuscule fraction of our lives…
So I hope it’s rational that I could only sit there smiling and sitting in absolute shock. Though his nervousness was clear, his playing brought me to peace.
Cant wait to be senior. just waiting and waiting.
yet it scares the hell outta me how much this guy is similar to the other guy ive loved for the past 4 years.
this feeling is all too familiar. dont do it. stop waiting. drop it. dont think.
the only one worth trusting is..no one.
happiness comes from within not a person or a thing.
serenades only come from willing boys.
my feelings are never sincere, yet they are. just plaster a charming look and fool everyone. it’s a fun game to play nonetheless. keeps the ego happy.
no worth in a text. no worth in a flirt for he does it to everyone anyways. no difference to any other.
should stick to my own age.
this is ridiculous.
dont trust anything.
nonetheless i am content ^_^ it makes the school day and rehearsals worthwhile.
Who’s up at 2 30 practicing (and just got scared to death by mom creeping up behind me to tell me to go to sleep)?
All because of interlochen tsk tsk.
Why do I do these things?
I will hate myself tomorrow~
Did I really practice for 2 hours?? Maybe just 1…not enough hours in a day…
I blame O Charley’s for my high expectations for bread rolls.
February 15th..oh God.
Pugs before drugs.
Fries before guys.
The temperature is tabling stubbornly at 34. This is frustrating.
…slowly lulls me to dreamland. How I wish I could be snatched by sleep…1 am slinks by. From thought to thought my consciousness flits…a butterfly within a net. I can’t break it. Break what? The net? The net of friendship. This could potentially be messy.
Sing me a lullaby,
Sing me to paradise,
Where the rhythm of rain thrives
A soul within a song
Simply will not go along
If it wont catch on
Its time to wake.
But understand the shadows
have just begun their dance
A false promise and a memory…with a shimmering silver lining around the edges.
It ll be left where it’s supposed to be though, in the past, to have and hold…a single moment in the forest not worth traveling back to.
It ll do everyone much good to say “I love you” without a heart full of lies.