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the writing on the wall was never meant for me

There I was, on my way out of the Co-Op, clutching my bottle of organic carrot juice and my extra-large coffee--something, anything to quell the headache that's been creeping all morning -- when the voter signature boy stopped me.

Tall. Dark hair. Sharp blue eyes. Day-old growth. A smile to slay me.

Asked me to sign a gazillion forms. Complimented my scarf. Complimented my earrings. Smiled sweetly.

I signed every petition.

My head still hurts and, but even though I know it's all just political, I feel better.

2:18 pm - 06.03.06

sounds:
words:
i am:

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previously on ... - next time on ...

faraway, so close - 19.04.08 - 11:35 am

a shaky sorta mellow - 17.04.08 - 2:04 pm

the apple doesn't fall far from the tree (and i want to eat it) - 16.04.08 - 4:19 pm

everyone says they know you - 15.04.08 - 12:53 pm

in which i grade myself on a generous curve - 14.04.08 - 5:37 pm

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