"everyday i'm shuffling"
you (mr./mrs. not going to be mentioned) are getting on my last freaking nerves. you walk into the room and i'm busting through the walls, trying to get out. don't breathe, its loud and sounds disgusting, don't move, and do not speak. oh please don't speak to me. to communicate with you is driving me up and over the mountain. and i'm falling in slow motion so i'm not going to hit the ground for a while. this drawn out torture might just as well be the death of me.
i wanna get lost in a love song and slowly drift away in the setting sun with my other half. how cheesy does that sound? but on the flip side it sounds amazing and novel. to love, like Jane Eyre, for example, would be amazing, don't cha think? not this trashy Jerry Springer crap most people have.
i'm tired of bull crap... not just on the topic of the other sex.. i'm stale.
poor myrtle is falling apart. for those of you who don't know.. myrtle is my car. i feel like i am barely keeping up with school and i don't hardly remember to talk with God until the day is done or when i need something.. how great is that? not to great..
"put another x on the calendar, summers on its death bed.." P.@.D
if you don't listen to panic at the disco.. you suck. go listen to them now!!!