Strobe lights and blown speakers
Fireworks and hurricanes
I'm not here
This isn't happening.
insignificant thoughts and rants manifested in the simple musings of an adolescent with time on her small uncultured hands.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Appreciation.
"I, am thankful for you."
If sweeter words could have been said, may I be struck down at this moment.
In other news...
This summer marks the start of my enterprise. There are still pieces out of place, and connections that undoubtedly need to be established, but it's getting there. The delusion of grandeur, cough er.. concept, upcycling.
Upcycling: N. The practice of taking something that is disposable and transforming it into something of greater use and value.
Brilliant, no? Finally, something to look forward to. I've always been the self-sufficient type, and this only fuels my proverbial fire. This endeavor will not be instantly gratifying. I think I need that.
If sweeter words could have been said, may I be struck down at this moment.
In other news...
This summer marks the start of my enterprise. There are still pieces out of place, and connections that undoubtedly need to be established, but it's getting there. The delusion of grandeur, cough er.. concept, upcycling.
Upcycling: N. The practice of taking something that is disposable and transforming it into something of greater use and value.
Brilliant, no? Finally, something to look forward to. I've always been the self-sufficient type, and this only fuels my proverbial fire. This endeavor will not be instantly gratifying. I think I need that.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Land of the hummingbirds.
Fly with me darling,
come take my hand.
I'll tell you of stories,
the grandest of grand.
We'll fox-trot with dawn,
dew drops on our faces.
Cling tight to our dreams,
of far away places.
No one will see us,
for who'd ever dare,
to travel to a land,
that was never really there.
come take my hand.
I'll tell you of stories,
the grandest of grand.
We'll fox-trot with dawn,
dew drops on our faces.
Cling tight to our dreams,
of far away places.
No one will see us,
for who'd ever dare,
to travel to a land,
that was never really there.
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