sweetspeaker360
food. sometimes the recipe for disaster. Who really knows until the end? I don't. I use all the ones tucked into my little recipe box that my godmother gave me. Not all the recipes are hers, though. I collect.
wake up and smell the coffee, with creamer floating around in it like little soft clouds, like your forgotten dreams. See the yellow-gold light streaming through the blinds in distinct rays, like the sun can't wait to see you. Try not to mind when the first thing you see outside your door is the garbage covering every god-forsaken surface.
a respecble woman. what my mommy always raised me to be. several resort to calling it snobbery I'm not trying to be arrogant or anything. I'm just practicing what I've always been taught to do.
like discovering new stuff inside my own home. something I thought that I'd lost or something I never knew I had, or something I knew about but also forgot about. i like discoverg new ways of thinking, new stuff to do. That's always a blast.
my favorite books. But hopefully, meaningful fiction that teaches me a lesson when I'm done reading it. Like Jane Eyre. Wonderful piece of work, that one. One of the very best! You can shoose to believe it or not, but I like to. That's how you escape from everyday life. It's better to lose yourelself in it than to let it fly past your brain unheeded.
catch phrase! know the sequnce of words before you try to use it, or you will sound like and idiot. seriously. also know foreign phrases that will allow you to survive. "i'm hungry" or "where is..." are good ones. musical phrases are pretty to listen to. I think the word should be written in yellow or green.
what I always want. I want good grades. I want to move up in my career. I want to be beautiful. That's like a success, too, I think. I want to know. but sometimes, it dawns on me that it might not matter. Then I push the thought away and realize that yes, yes it does.
route 66. cars whooshing by, leaving nothing but car exhaust and dust clouds in their wake. tumbleweeds trying, not succeeding, in keeping up with the cars. isolation apparent, although so many drivers passing through, forgetting the lands.
I love to be in the library. I am surrounded by such a wealth of words, I am awed. The knowledge of the ages resides in the pages lying among the shelves. My soul is at peace knowing that there are people who have survived things, more terrible than I have or ever will see, and have lived through it to share their experience with everyone else. I can thus be together with the people of the past wle still being alone. I love libraries.
banana splity. split your pants like spongebob. split a soda. split your sides laughing! so funny! split up a fght, because it is too dangerous for those involved. split some wood, because the house is co and we need a fire. split a joke, and inside one that only you d I share. let's split, because I don't wanna be here anymore. it's a drag. not really.