nothing works in this type of heat. my cell phone is too hot to ring. my shoes stopped fitting.
i have a huge painful pimple on my forehead, right by my eyebrow and i am too old for this.
shadows melt down the sidewalk. they must be looking for shade.
there was no point in watering the flower pots. they have transformed into little brick ovens, baking young buds and beetles alike. at least the dog isn't dead yet.
and i am perched like the bluejay in the biggest cedar. on the longest branch. on the very tip. the sunniest spot.
burn me up, sunshine. burn me up.
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she melts and mends. all the pieces scatter and shatter. and then they fit right back together.
hi. welcome to the unread ramblings of a girl with nothing important to say. this doesn't stop her from sharing all her meaningless opinions and observations. she swears. she can't spell. she binges on cake and vodka.
"people blog because they think their lives are more important than they actually are".
- me, october 22, 2007, to shannon after she told me about a shirt that says "no one reads your blog". i told her i want it. and i also want a shirt that says "i blog, therefore i am".
"people blog because they think their lives are more important than they actually are".
- me, october 22, 2007, to shannon after she told me about a shirt that says "no one reads your blog". i told her i want it. and i also want a shirt that says "i blog, therefore i am".
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