So I drift into the air like a moth to light
Down the boulevard to the coffee shop
In the land of song, in the land of waits
My pen is bearing down on this lovely town
I never seem to write them down as good as him
Like I somewhere lost the keys that let me in
I never seem to write them down as good as him
Like I somewhere lost the keys that let me in
-I've Been Waiting, Sixpence None The Richer
Random Thought Of The Day:
A million pencils could not illustrate how I feel right now.
Word Of The Day:
ultimate
I have this strange idea that has been slowly forming inside of my head for over 2 years now. It's a very odd idea, in the sense that it's entirely foreign to everything my particular culture believes. I'm entirely convinced it's true, though I haven't absorbed it into all my living yet. I think that may take me the rest of my life to do. The idea is this: In order to fully become everything that I can possibly be, I have to give up any ownership of myself. Not personality...personality is a keeper. But the notion that I am somehow entitled to my own time, abilities, money, etc. That has to go. And once I get rid of that, I will be free to acheive sooper-awesome things. It's a tough way to live, but hey, I'd rather be cryin' free than smilin' chained. But that's just me.
So, the countdown continues. My stress level is at a 6 out of 10, which is pretty good. Tomorry morn I am performing a fantabulous examination o' piano, which should be fun. Or...not. I hate performing musically. Anyway, 10 months of preparation for 30 minutes of ridiculous torture. But I exaggerate.
The following day is a celebration like none other, in honour of our very own Queen. The festivities shall continue for many hours, in a manner quite suited to our Orange Monarch. I must say, I am looking forward to it immensely. I must also say, I sincerely wish that there were another word for "day". If there is, and I'm just completely ignorant, please let me know.
So, the countdown continues. My stress level is at a 6 out of 10, which is pretty good. Tomorry morn I am performing a fantabulous examination o' piano, which should be fun. Or...not. I hate performing musically. Anyway, 10 months of preparation for 30 minutes of ridiculous torture. But I exaggerate.
The following day is a celebration like none other, in honour of our very own Queen. The festivities shall continue for many hours, in a manner quite suited to our Orange Monarch. I must say, I am looking forward to it immensely. I must also say, I sincerely wish that there were another word for "day". If there is, and I'm just completely ignorant, please let me know.
Hey, when people you've long left behind suddenly send you a letter, don't you kindof feel like they must be ghosts?