The waether is getting colder, and that only means one thing: downturn in my emotions. It gets darker and all I want to do is stay in bed all day. My production and my mood slide downhill. I'll live though.
Blue Velvet.
"Penthouse. One year, $4.75."
"Whaaaaht?"
"Yea, who said it wasn't worth it."
I'm tired, but I feel like such a sissy lala when I go to bed early on a Saturday. Cunundrum. I mean, in the last two hours, I've had three and a half cups of coffee, too, so I shouldn't be tired. But all I want to do is crawl in and read The Adventures of Augie March, and think of someone special that doesn't think the same about me, because that's how it goes I guess.
And then fall asleep writing about her because I can't fall asleep with her.
Hopeless romantic and rise up!
Alfaro Vive Carajo!
¿Conejo?
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2 comments:
"And then fall asleep writing about her because I can't fall asleep with her." - this actually moved me.
i'm loving your blog. it makes me think while i'm trying to to kill myself at work.
trying to NOT kill myself, that is. ;)
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