good catch, boy

will these bruises be replaced before they fade, or are they my last?

tomorrow will be the first day of the rest of my life.  tonight it is very late, and i have to work very early.

“things are gonna go, they’re only gonna go.”

history repeating…

i remember on a high school ski trip, sitting on a ski lift with linds, listening to her go off about a guy she didn’t too much care for.  as it turns out that same boy had recently caught my eye, and told her i thought i might actually be interested in him.  they were fucking within the month.  i’m over it.

cause i've been meaning to…

point form…

i hate the cold.  seriously, more than most things, i hate it.  it just so happens that this year, on top of it having been an amazingly mild winter, i have an amazingly warm coat.  my daddy bought it for me, scouted it out while some pregnant lady was trying it on.  now everytime i’m walking in the cold, and the boys beside me are griping about the wind, i think about how snuggley warm i am, and about how it was my daddy who gave me this feeling.  i’ve been meaning to tell him; i figure, with all the fighting we do, he might like to know that, the majority of the time, when i think of him it is as a result of my warmth and well-being.

yesterday i was leaving the house, and i went to say goodbye to the gimp.  i found him asleep on the couch with shelley.  she was leaning against him, they were bathed in sunlight.

spoke to jer for the first time in ages, he made me heartsick:

yeah…  sophie, you have so much love.  just sometimes you get confused about it.  where it goes…  or maybe just this time.  but i know you just want to make the world a little better.  make some happy.

now i should go back downstairs… i hear the voices of my drunken kin.

it’s raining outside.

come here often?