it's timed writing day. where the heck is she ( Read more... )

songs are like tattoos ( Read more... )

oh ( Read more... )

maybe i'll invent a mixed drink called cranberry orange tornado. it would brighten up my day. and what a dreary day it is ( Read more... )

my head feels like it is being split down the middle with whiny screechy childrens' voices. always pestering me and asking me a million questions. sometimes i just want to throw things... but it was such a peaceful and restful vacation for me. i should be happy ( Read more... )

this computer is the devil. or maybe it's just for the devil ( Read more... )

it is really hard for me to not talk to my ap kids while they write. i miss them. they keep looking around the room for inspiration and i have to stomp out my impulse to catch their eyes and make faces at them. it would only bring ruin to this beautific hard working group ( Read more... )

for someplace where they would not know a word of english and i might be understood ( Read more... )

forty thousand years spent in a castle made of silver and gold and precious stones ( Read more... )

what is it about the blues? those moody moody blues- so effervescent that they just sneak up on you when you're in a pretty good mood. and they don't stay very long, necessarily, they just force you to be introspective and a little defensive for a minute or two... and it's hard to jump right back into the skin of good-moodness ( Read more... )