(no subject)
So I've been thinking about how seriously to take this thing ever since I realized that now TWO people I know could be reading it. Still mulling it over.
After watching Tuesday's "Gilmore Girls" season finale, I've decided that if I ever get arrested for stealing a yacht, there must be two pretty boys in dinner jackets willing to pick me up from the police station. And should my mother come get me instead, those two prety boys in dinner jackets must fall at my feet in adoration on my way out. That's just how it should be done.
I wrote a poem last night, which is weird because I don't write poems. Except for last night. It's a pretty crappy excuse for a poem, so I'm not writing it in here. It's just strange that I sat down with my journal and poetry came out instead of prose. It wasn't even a conscious effort or anything. That's probably why it's crappy.
After watching Tuesday's "Gilmore Girls" season finale, I've decided that if I ever get arrested for stealing a yacht, there must be two pretty boys in dinner jackets willing to pick me up from the police station. And should my mother come get me instead, those two prety boys in dinner jackets must fall at my feet in adoration on my way out. That's just how it should be done.
I wrote a poem last night, which is weird because I don't write poems. Except for last night. It's a pretty crappy excuse for a poem, so I'm not writing it in here. It's just strange that I sat down with my journal and poetry came out instead of prose. It wasn't even a conscious effort or anything. That's probably why it's crappy.