| ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 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
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money can't buy happiness but it does buy small pieces of of serenity - 15.07.12 - 4:29 pm sh)t's about to get real, y'all - 31.05.12 - 9:46 am why the hell not? - 29.04.12 - 8:38 pm Hear that lonesome whistle blow... - 02.04.12 - 5:18 pm a faith in something I can't see - 30.03.12 - 3:33 pm |
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