And for every hung up person in the whole wide universe..
Listening to Bob Dylan in the morning can be nice too! At first I thought he was best at dusk and post-sunlight hours... but Bob at breakfast works for me too now.
I'll have you know (you being whoever out there finds this interesting) I read 3 chapters in that god-awful book for history. I made myself a decorative bookmark just to make the reading experience a little more enjoyable. I read that book all day, then reward myself with a chapter from "Atlas Shrugged" by Ayn Rand, in case you didn't know. She should change her name to Ayn Rad, because that book is the best book I've ever read and I'm only on chapter 5 so far. I highly reccomend it! It's a heifer though, I have the cheapest paperback copy I could find (the better paperbacks will run you $25 or so) and it's 1069 pages. But it's such a fantastic book, there's memorable passages in pretty much every chapter.
Soccer starts tomorrow. Boo. I don't even like soccer. But yet I play it? It's something to do...other than get a job!
School starts next week! Ah! Boooooo. That's crap.
"I Shall be Free No. 10" is a really funny song. Especially when Dylan goes "Wowee, pretty scary!"
And "I wound up with the dean of women...yippee!"
I found this in my closet..
Just the sweater, not the shirt under it.
It's pretty awesome, isn't it? I decided to start wearing it again. Kind of random, I know but I felt like sharing. I just love the color.
Here's a passage from Atlas Shrugged
"She sat listening to the music. It was a symphony of triumph. The notes flowed up, they spoke of rising and they were the rising itself, they were the essence and the form of upward motion, they seemed to embody every human act and thought that had ascent as its motive. It was a sunburst of sound, breaking out of hiding and spreading oepn. It had the freedom of release and the tension of purpose. It swept space clean, and left nothing but the joy of so unobstructed effort. Only a faint echo within the sounds spoke of that from which the music had escaped, but spoke in laughing astonishment at the discovery that there was no ugliness or pain, and there never had had to be. It was the song of an iimmense delivereance.
She thought: for just a few moments - while this lasts - it is all right to surrender compeltely - to forget everything and just permit yourself to feel. She thought: let go - drop the controls - this is it.
Somewhere on the edge of her mind, under the music, she heard the sound of train wheels. They knocked in an even rhythm, every fourth knock accented, as if stressing a conscious purpose. She could relax, because she heard the wheels. She listened to the symphony thinking: This is why the wheels have to be kept going, and this is where they're going."
Bellissimo!
Meghan
I'll have you know (you being whoever out there finds this interesting) I read 3 chapters in that god-awful book for history. I made myself a decorative bookmark just to make the reading experience a little more enjoyable. I read that book all day, then reward myself with a chapter from "Atlas Shrugged" by Ayn Rand, in case you didn't know. She should change her name to Ayn Rad, because that book is the best book I've ever read and I'm only on chapter 5 so far. I highly reccomend it! It's a heifer though, I have the cheapest paperback copy I could find (the better paperbacks will run you $25 or so) and it's 1069 pages. But it's such a fantastic book, there's memorable passages in pretty much every chapter.
Soccer starts tomorrow. Boo. I don't even like soccer. But yet I play it? It's something to do...other than get a job!
School starts next week! Ah! Boooooo. That's crap.
"I Shall be Free No. 10" is a really funny song. Especially when Dylan goes "Wowee, pretty scary!"
And "I wound up with the dean of women...yippee!"
I found this in my closet..
Just the sweater, not the shirt under it.
It's pretty awesome, isn't it? I decided to start wearing it again. Kind of random, I know but I felt like sharing. I just love the color.
Here's a passage from Atlas Shrugged
"She sat listening to the music. It was a symphony of triumph. The notes flowed up, they spoke of rising and they were the rising itself, they were the essence and the form of upward motion, they seemed to embody every human act and thought that had ascent as its motive. It was a sunburst of sound, breaking out of hiding and spreading oepn. It had the freedom of release and the tension of purpose. It swept space clean, and left nothing but the joy of so unobstructed effort. Only a faint echo within the sounds spoke of that from which the music had escaped, but spoke in laughing astonishment at the discovery that there was no ugliness or pain, and there never had had to be. It was the song of an iimmense delivereance.
She thought: for just a few moments - while this lasts - it is all right to surrender compeltely - to forget everything and just permit yourself to feel. She thought: let go - drop the controls - this is it.
Somewhere on the edge of her mind, under the music, she heard the sound of train wheels. They knocked in an even rhythm, every fourth knock accented, as if stressing a conscious purpose. She could relax, because she heard the wheels. She listened to the symphony thinking: This is why the wheels have to be kept going, and this is where they're going."
Bellissimo!
Meghan