(no subject)
My twentieth birthday was very tiring. Maybe I'll just sleep, and dream. I'll dream that I've got everything under my finger in glass so I can look and examine everything. I'll be able to fully analyze everything and plan out my life, for once. I'll figure out my finances, how I'll live my life, and keep all those major problems under control. Then I'd dream that all I had was a guitar and a heart, and I was made of paper, so I could let the wind carry me and write the experience of the world on me. I would dream that I had wheels and the highway was the only place I could go, rolling on and on and on chasing the sun and moon. I wish I could at least dream these things.