I seem to live in the past. It’s the only thing that’s set, that you know has happened. I hate the thought of the future. The same goes for the present. I don’t absorb past content purposely either. It’s something I seem to gravitate to. I don’t like the thought of a routine. It makes me feel bored. I like changing and evolving. Yet, I seem to love it at the same...
I wish I had someone to have a long conversation with.
Just woke up from the weirdest nap. Have a sore throat I did not have before and I am dizzy. (1/23/11) 10:12PM
I’m a torn up page in a writer’s garbage bin.