2009/08/12 08:06 It's never too late—in fiction or in life—to revise.
my hands are always cold and shaking with anticipation. i've got an addiction, but it's not serious. we're all waiting for something. i never listen and can't hardly focus. i wish i had the answer to every thing, but i don't. i'm so simple but you'll never understand. i form my own opinons, i don't believe everything i'm told. i see the beauty in everything and everyone, but i also see the ugliness. there's so many people, yet i feel so alone. even when everything still, things are moving. i'm calm, but my heart is racing. i'm yelling at the top of my lungs, and no one can hear me. my feet are planted on the ground, but i'm high in the clouds. it's quiet, but it sounds like a million sirens are going off. i have a millon thoughts, but never know what to say. i'm sitting at home, but i'm drowning in the ocean. there's no tomorrow, just today. can we get away? far away
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