I cross my fingers, cross my heart and hope to die.
Ever type up a long entry only to lose it to the nether regions of your computer? It makes you feel sorta fancy, does it not? I was never there when my friends spun around and stared at the ceiling trying to find God, but I would like to be shown the path.
In the past month I have seen 13 airports and 13 different cities across Europe. Kompressor has been to the Vatican. Maren has been swarmed by pigeons. My sister has minded the gap. My mom has been found guilty for having her jubbly bits flailing about.
I do not have class Mondays, but I will probably end up working for awhile. I am avoiding gathering school supplies and walking to figure this term's schedule out.
Pictures and slightly more details sometime in the near future. Until then, listen to the Cure. It is what Robbie would have wanted.
p.s. damn bitch that's shitfuck
p.p.s. weezer yeti!
p.p.p.s. heath dance your mom
p.p.p.p.s. come back, come back, come back to me
(when was the last time you denied existence? passed out from hot sauce? felt pain? fell over due to being top-heavy? smassited?)
p.p.p.p.p.s. I have a lovely scar on my left elbow from an ill-fated attack tango. Scar your friends, they will never forget you!