Nineteen is a selfish age and finds one’s cares tightly circumscribed. I felt endlessly powerful and endlessly optimistic; my pockets were empty but my head was full of things I wanted to say and my heart was full of stories I wanted to tell. I felt I had been made to do those things. How conceited does that sound? A lot or a little? Either way I
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Am replying to gmail mail.
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I have already met the Patrol Boy, and yet, I love to dream, irrespective of whether those dreams come true or not. :)
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And yeah, that's the spirit. Patrol Boy is in for some surprizes, methinks.
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_boy_? methinks it's a whole army.. he seems to be everywhere at once sometimes ;)
here's another take that showed up on my friends page yesterday.
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Neat poem. However, my problem is not of feeling old but of seeing time pass by. :|
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True...but we did say a _different_ take we dids :-)
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Regardless of other people's progress, though, I still say you can kick Patrol Boy's *ss. =)
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My point is that as time passes by I do not see myself doing much about my dreams. Just dreaming won't help. Which brings me to another point, can I have your gtalk/msn/whatnot ID? Someone who works in a bookshop seems to be THE person I should be talking to. :)
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