

counting the days.I am numbering the days.counting the days.
Numbering the days until my life will turn around, the weeks, the months, the years -- the hours.
Maybe tonight.
Maybe tonight will be the night, skipping along walkways, dancing around to amazing music, losing myself, and finding /him/.
The one you write to and for and about without ever being conscious of it. Everyone has that One. The dream person, the perfect mate.
Maybe tonight.
Maybe never. Maybe I will be writing for him and about him and to him, and never actually finding him. Or her, for that matter. That One.
Maybe


this is what happens...This is what happens when you're bulletproof. You're fucking immortal. What are you supposed to do, take a goddamn bullet for someone? Passes through your skin, you can't even feel it. Hits them dead center in the chest, and this is where you're left. Kissing the back of their hand, crying tears on to their flesh.this is what happens...
This is what happens when you're bulletproof. Burying the girl you've been in love with longer than you can remember, burying her six feet under in cold ground, burying her where human eyes will never see. Burying her with all her dreams still in her beautiful brain, burying her. Simply that in itself, burying her. &nbs
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We may lose and we may win, but we will never be here again.
Open up, I'm climbing in, and takin it easy.
~Jackson Browne
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This has been a rAnDoM cOmMeNt brought to you by Octy and Sheepers, saving the young children of the world from themselves...
i hope you have lotsa fun here
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Dear God... Protect me from your followers...
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