DecemberBLUE07

I chanced upon a listing of meaningless questions most with an inconsequential response (at least, they used to be). I find myself jumping to answers you'd normally find pouring unabashedly from the fingertips of one young lover whose heart has flippy-flopped for the very first time-- one who is so convinced that this is love, that this is it and that he or she is THE one. I chanced upon my memories pouring over them; remembering what it is to know that feeling for the first time and how those memories sometimes are confused with the ones that you and I made not but hours ago. I find myself stumbling for words because I do

I cannot speak; my tongue's been cut, my mind been burned, but at least my face can still be forced to smile. --I need a little slice of happiness, little slice of happiness, oh, I need a little spot on the sun. I cannot dream these dreams without some fear of rebuttal from the stars that sleep and pray to keep their place among Jupiter and Mars~ These movies in my head, oh the movies in my head are so unlike your extravagant exploits your fairytales with swords and fighter jets; They're so much simpler, but far more complicated (they deal with the nature of humans who have grown so unnatural that they question instinct, even, and