Chinese and T.V.
August 30, 2009 
Had an amazing weekend. Smiles, smiles, smiles.
“I don’t want anything more
Than to see your face when you open the door
You’ll make me beans on toast and a nice cup of tea
And we’ll get a Chinese and watch TV
Tomorrow we’ll take the dog for a walk
And in the afternoon then maybe we’ll talk
I’ll be exhausted so I’ll probably sleep
And we’ll get a Chinese and watch TV”
-Chinese by Lily Allen
Coffee Cups.
August 28, 2009 
Coffee cups are scattered throughout my room. On my desk, on my bureau, and on the night stand next to my bed. In them holds old grounds and brown rings. They kept me awake on nights that I struggled to write a paper. They gave me comfort on those rainy days. I held them close when I poured my heart on paper. I haven’t the energy to move them, nor the will. They sit and keep me company as the time ticks by…
Ride Home.
August 25, 2009 
On the ride home, I wonder what my life would be like if things were different. Like if I was just a little more outgoing would I get along with people better? If I had a better perception of myself would people then have a better perception of me? I wonder what it would be like to not get depressed at random times and not have my night ruined by it. I wonder how life would play out if I stopped over analyzing every action of every person. I wonder if for once in my life I could be something. I wonder if I could for once get what I want, what I deserve to have. But then, on that very same ride home, I realize that I’ll always have to keep wondering. Simply because I’ll never be outgoing, I’ll never see myself in good light, I’ll never break free of depression, I’ll never stop my analysis of people and I know because I am nothing, I will get nothing.
Wait For Tomorrow.
Today seems endless. It seems hopeless. It seems like nothing good will happen. So I’ll simply wait for tomorrow.
That Feeling That I Get…
…when I see your clothes spread out on my floor.
What an interesting turn of events.
Hope[Less]
I imagine the first time you would kiss me. Your soft, slender hands holding my flushed cheeks, bringing me closer to you. Lips slightly damp from the heavy night air, voices around us holding meaningless conversation, we embrace. The touch is a cold fire, sending my heart racing. We break away, smile, and fall back onto the clouds holding us up.
~
Now, I wonder. Why am I cursed to be such a hopeless romantic? And the kicker? You’ll never even think this is about you.
Everyone Needs A Little Abba.
So cheesy but so good at the same time. And I kind of dress like the blonde one…
Choking on Words.
Trying to think of a poem, a song, a lyric, a sonnet, anything. But I just keep choking on the words that pop into my head.
Ovvvverrated.
“And this feeling I dread, it makes me wish I was dead
Or just alone instead, I’ll be alone instead
I don’t need anyone in my bed
Just these ceiling tiles falling through my head”
-Happiness is Overrated: Airborne Toxic Event
