What a night for a dance, you know I'ma dancing machine. I think every one of us is a story - candid, horrific, harassed and even incredibly contagious smile, but all stories. I, particularly, a somewhat trite and curiously fatal.
And that each and every encounter-interaction we have with others are the chapters that compose it. And they say "what about the times reflective, introspective?."
Oh, yeah. These are chapters with oneself, of course. Woo hoo hoo, woo hoo hoo.
But I will not talk about those chapters of abstraction. Today I want to finally cut a lovesong that chapter did not become out of sheer inertia.
In a candid and harassed chapter, with the smile that incredibly-contagious I've seen, and I've been to pure envy (jealousy fools of another story that she likes, or do you like, but you did Perhaps the gooseneck-trend-by harassing). I think that for the first time, and in those early days, I was part of the typical tangle're the new boy crush of a girl (something stalker) was dying catch "- and I liked that feeling.
was actually a very nice chapter, and if I were to tell me that pages would prefer, at least for now-not miss. And if you did, you know, have cut our chapter lovesong, it was because he would know that would not stay in nostalgia. Okay? The time that we would live would be nice for me, but while I'll keep dreaming of revelry.
PS: There is not a single word in this entry that has your first initial, ah. Not one, and just so you know that I speak to you.
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