These are my thoughts. They are for me. For the me now, and the me to be.
I don't always make sense, and I like living that way.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Bitter from the inside and cold on the outside, she thrusts her flask in the dark night sky and while only slightly intoxicated, proclaims, " You know where they'll be in ten years? That same damn house doing the same DAMN thing. And you know where I'll be in ten years? Wherever the hell I want to be getting as drunk as I want to be and I, unlike them, will be COMFORTABLE in my own DAMN skin."
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