all my bubble dreams, bubble dreams.
(rosie hardy, one of the most talented ladies alive, i think.)
clouds like fluffy masses of cotton candy. good enough to
eat. -chomp chomp-.
today wrapped up a surprisingly good week (apart from the bad stuff.)
didn't think we would make it, but we did.
considering we got lost/ muddled up at three separate locations.
had another mind-blowingly good time.
learnt new words and
forgot about the real world for awhile.
:D
tired.
it's funny how some stuff from your past comes around to remind
you of who you once were.
(on a side note, it is annoying and dumb when people use you've changed as a passable excuse.
what, did you expect us to be ten-year-olds forever?)
(memories is a weird word i will avoid using it.)
we were so happy, heh.
heard a song and thought of the childish dream we once had for each other.
things like these don't mean much now but
i guess it meant the world to us then.
we meant the world to us.
no, why am i harping about this, anyway?
i think the past is maybe divided into categories.
there are the stuff you miss more than anything, would kill to relive them again.
and then, there's the column where you chuck the crushed up bits of paper
for all you could care.
how very, very odd it is.
how we spend a lifetime trying to find the answers.
if it was it, we wouldn't have to try,
i think, we would just know.
but then again, in a city of blank, blank faces.
wish the world was a happier place and we would stop trying to kill
each other or blow things up.
on the contrary, one train ride, and have realised
(yet again) of the overwhelming stench of young, young love.
would be crude to say it wouldn't last. i hope for
their sake it does, but we all know better, really.
they looked happy, at least.
the guy had that look in his eyes. the one where he knew she was all his,
and like there was no one else in the world?
hers was less loud, i suppose.
hers just wrinkled at the corners of her eyes where she smiled.
ah, nevermind. it has to start
somewhere, i guess.