Lluvia

Rain always makes me feel so good.

A Few Little Birds

I love how much one person can change your life and the way you live it. Moreover, I love how several people can change you in several little ways.

Yes - this is going to be just what I've been needing.

Something tells me I'm into something good...

I can see myself growing in a place like this. It is a corner in an apartment and I can rightfully say it is all my own. I can see the sun waking me on winter mornings and I can hear the laughter from all the far-fetched ideas that could be shared around coffee and tea. I can see myself feeling hopelessly at home here in the space of another month, and I can see myself healthy and happy and smiling for eight more that - like it or not - will likely pass very quickly. I can see myself becoming aware. I can see myself writing more and learning new ways in which to relieve stress and anxiety.

I can see the happiness and the help and I can see the growth already.

Blur

Time always has a way of creeping up on me, especially when I think it has come to a sugary slow stop.

As I sit here on this last night I'll be spending at home, I can't help but contemplate how this has happened once again. Old friends trying new things, like relationships and drugs; new friends trying old things, like recalling childhood television favorites and having the same mannerisms. It seems as though time has gradually melded everything different into something rather the same.

Life sure is beautiful.

There is, however, one frustration that must naturally come of all this:

I'm tired of these mother fuckin' snakes on this mother fuckin' plane!

Come sail with me...

Today was astoundingly beautiful in so many ways and fortunately, even through the Pepsi problems, everyone else seemed to enjoy the beach one final time before the end of summer.

"Well, I didn't have my coupon at the time, and the person I checked out with told me I could bring this back with my receipt..."

Today has been quite blah. Maybe it's because I'm tired and out of things to say, or maybe it's got something - a teeny, tiny little something - to do with all the excuses I'm so sick of hearing.

But probably it's just the fact that I've kept this miserable excuse of a generic LJ for almost THREE BF-ING YEARS.

I don't know. Just a speculation.