Silk.

Feb 17, 2008 12:32

I have stuff in my hair to straighten it out and make it pretty that I bought when I was in colorado.
Thus, reminding me of being there.
It makes me kinda wanna smash my head into a wall.
I miss it, every day, all day.
John doesn't want to hear moving out there, either. He needs to be close to an ocean. I can't say I blame him, I love the ocean too. Wouldn't mind seeing the pacific.
Maybe I associate happiness out there with freedom, that might be why I want to be back there so bad.
Who knows. I mean, the second I got home, my wings got re-clipped and I became miserable all over again.
Kind of a drastic change from how I lived my life there, so maybe that's why I wanna flee back to the rockies.
But I miss the 16th street mall, I miss taking the lightrail, ("Next Stop: Alameda!") the retarded looking overly airconditioned busses, the GIGANTIC starbucks across the street from my house.... the whole damn thing.
Shopping, the heat, feeling pretty, walking barefoot through EXTREMELY green grass.
The smell of this stuff is breaking my heart. Scent is the strongest tie to memory.

Stabbity stab stab.
And now I have to go look at an apartment with my father. We might end up moving.
Fuck.
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