| So I guess it wouldn't really hurt to write in this thing again. It's been a long while since I've made an entry worth mentioning... but then again, it's been a while since I've had thoughts worth mentioning. I went through my entire blog and made probably 98% of my old posts private, for the pure and simple fact I wouldn't want anyone who doesn't know me to read what I wrote three years ago and think I'm a loon.
Which I am. But strangers don't need to know that. But anyway.
Devotion is going well, BLAST was pretty nice, the Thursday and Friday of SHC were decent... except for the pictures. I really hate having pictures taken of me, mainly because I'd like to think I'm pretty, and I don't need to see pictures that prove me otherwise. I know I'm a fatty. I don't need proof. Moving on.
My birthday is in five days, and I'm going to California in six. I'm not sure how I feel about that. My birthday, I mean. I'm excited to be going to California. Brett Dennen concert, OotP in an IMAX... it's going to be fun, especially since I'm a sheltered WV girl who's never seen the ocean or been to the West coast. But to be turning sixteen, getting my license, a car, a job... it's a lot to take in in one summer.
I know that by the end of July I'm going to be an entirely different person. I can see it coming. I can also see that I'm going to become a glorified hermit in August after traveling literally the US and all of WV in one month. I'm going to be physically, mentally, and emotionally drained. So I apologize in advance for anything I might say or how I might act in August.
Uhh. I think that's about it. Boring, I know.
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| AIM, email, Facebook, or MySpace me for my new Xanga.
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| After perusing other Xangas, I must ask myself...
Am I the only one who thoroughly despised Soul Patrol?
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I just bought a guitar.

Wow. Now I guess I'll have to learn to play it. |
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| Lips (n) either of the two folds of flesh that surround the mouth.
Like a down comforter filled with soft stuff, they press against me, Flesh meets flesh and cells collide, Softly, gently, caressing the very depths of my being,
Illuminating. Painted colors. Fluent sounds. And life is the sweet spontaneity we dream of.
Then they withdraw, with murmurs of letters and packages unsent, Leaving me with the joy of reception and the pain of addiction.
In one fleeting moment.
-Vinny Chhibber |
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