(no subject)
It truly has been short-lived, and a majestic trip down the spiral. Now the purples fade, and the greys begin. This becomes a time where worth is discarded, and a hidden card is brought into the hand. Perhaps those eternal purples are just before me, but it'll probably be another 15 years before fruition. Perhaps one person knows of what I am speaking, and evidently she reads my journal occasionally. As for that meeting for which you wished towards the end of my Senior year, perhaps I shall take you up on that. I'd rather not get another e-mail from you, however. If you'd like to do this, you can call me. I'd rather hear your voice. I haven't heard it speak to me in almost two years. I'm sure that you remember my home phone, because I cannot forget yours. With as many numbers as I've learned as of late, I can still rattle yours off at a slight mention. However, this doesn't mean that I'd like to phone that number. I'm afraid of who might answer, and the reaction that I may get. I am so simple. But, I greatly digress from my point. Do not call me at home. I wish that you'd call my cell phone. It's number can be made by matching 5-mer-sky with the corresponding numbers.
Perhaps I'll see you ring. Probably not.
This is it for a while.
I will never again think "this is it," because "this" is never it.
Perhaps I'll see you ring. Probably not.
This is it for a while.
I will never again think "this is it," because "this" is never it.