It's something about truth, that lies beyond expectations.
and sence expectations are entirely over rated, maybe I'm getting closer.
If not to truth, in it's purest form.
maybe to purity, in it's near to truest form..(or something along those lines)
It's been beautiful days here on the penninsula, nothing but sunny skies, and blood shot eyes.
It's 12:40am
and somewhere on Grove Street, someone is listening to some very loud 80's era pop music, I'm not quite sure how they are expirienceing it (living at this hour), but perception is to each her own, and I would love be indulging in some, life.
as apposed to writing about my lack of knowledge and favor for it.
Picture; Creativity Swims.
Nostalgia Floats.
Regrets Drown.
*and we fill in these blanks insessantly.
*and I invest in a dictionary.
*and I aquire a regular sleep schedule.
*and I start breathing deeper, and thinking clearer, and stop being afraid of my own ignorances and start exterminating them.
alright, diaryland. I think I'm hooked.
( Like Mac Davis sang, "baby, baby don't get hooked on me" )
.breathing.
:)
.living.
...regaurdless of however this ramble sounded,
I'm really impressed with the roads I'm beggining to travel..and excited to see where they take me.
(somewheres magical, i hope...i insist. )
goodnight
12:35 a.m. - 2008-04-24
Recent entries:
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swimming - 2011-11-28
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