childhood worship and early death
- we are the sum total of everything we remember.
That sounds so much like Chuck. From (mostly) that, I conclude that I like Kerima Polotan (also how Ms Diaz says her name - haha). But, no, really. This thing of hers that we read in class today was fun. Sad, because of all the death, but fun.
It would be so much easier if I wasn't even considering maybe liking you. (It would be much easier if you weren't nice and all smiling, too.) But then it'd probably also be less fun. So I guess I'll take what I can. It's good, anyway, what I get. It's...nice. HAHA.
Well, it really is. Everything aside and all. Or everything considered. One of them. It's nice, so there.
Eek. Stop it, me.
Thunder and lightning is much more frightening 70-odd meters up. It's closer and more defined and...Daddy turned the lights off, so we could see better. Crazy. Haha. :)
Rumble, rumble, boom.
Blind me already. We're getting there, anyway.
Maybe I'm just being too happy, too selective.
If happiness is effervescent, pain is indelible. I see where you're coming from, but I don't quite agree. So far (thankfully, too) though my painful memories stick, they don't really haunt. They're just sort of there. So I won't forget. So I won't make the same mistakes again. But they don't wake me up at night, not even close.
And maybe it's just the naivety, but it's nice. Content. Stable. Pleasant.
Thanks. <3
This is candycane.
Bert and I made her a couple of hours ago. She costs $100, more or less. She is red and shiny and pretty. I want her. Almost badly enough to use my money on her. But not quite yet, no.
Right now all I'm willing to do is waste hours on her, and maybe try to convince Mom and Dad to get her and Rollo for me and Bert. Much cheaper than a debut, any way you look at it. And we can treasure them for longer, too. Hee.
That sounds so much like Chuck. From (mostly) that, I conclude that I like Kerima Polotan (also how Ms Diaz says her name - haha). But, no, really. This thing of hers that we read in class today was fun. Sad, because of all the death, but fun.
It would be so much easier if I wasn't even considering maybe liking you. (It would be much easier if you weren't nice and all smiling, too.) But then it'd probably also be less fun. So I guess I'll take what I can. It's good, anyway, what I get. It's...nice. HAHA.
Well, it really is. Everything aside and all. Or everything considered. One of them. It's nice, so there.
Eek. Stop it, me.
Thunder and lightning is much more frightening 70-odd meters up. It's closer and more defined and...Daddy turned the lights off, so we could see better. Crazy. Haha. :)
Rumble, rumble, boom.
Blind me already. We're getting there, anyway.
Maybe I'm just being too happy, too selective.
If happiness is effervescent, pain is indelible. I see where you're coming from, but I don't quite agree. So far (thankfully, too) though my painful memories stick, they don't really haunt. They're just sort of there. So I won't forget. So I won't make the same mistakes again. But they don't wake me up at night, not even close.
And maybe it's just the naivety, but it's nice. Content. Stable. Pleasant.
Thanks. <3
This is candycane.
Bert and I made her a couple of hours ago. She costs $100, more or less. She is red and shiny and pretty. I want her. Almost badly enough to use my money on her. But not quite yet, no.
Right now all I'm willing to do is waste hours on her, and maybe try to convince Mom and Dad to get her and Rollo for me and Bert. Much cheaper than a debut, any way you look at it. And we can treasure them for longer, too. Hee.