yrodriguez
Burns. Like the letters that come to my mind when I think of you. The love letters that we wrote- said- all done- all gone. Burning in the furnace of your soul. Of your being. Nothing is left but ash. And the memory of what was.
please be hot! i hate a really ugly waiter. its so much better to be served your food by an attractive person. it's true. you're thinking it too...
All of a sudden I came up with an idea- chocolate covered strawberries and the doors... the night could not go wrong. And it didn't. Contentment with chocolate and great music. Life is good.
I am scared shitless of a contact lens. The concept that something is going to be in my eye all day that will help me see through a thin layer of some shit really bugs me out.. but my nose is crooked and I can't ware glasses... hm
lock down- sameness- new combination- old habits- hard to live in security- for there is always a trade off. i'm rambling again. what?
generate= USA. (in everything) minus the power.
the thing people want the most because they have never experienced it. they never will, because if there was an order we would not be... who the hell would want us?- not someone/something with order in their mind.
Me. I am the tornado that the beings on earth are afraid of. Things unknown, undiscovered. Be afraid, very afraid. I'm a shade of green you've never seen before. Hahahaha- Not. I think I'm fucked up... don't you?
Something I don't know. Something I care not about. I care more about truth, tangibility. The things that are closest to me, the things I know. Even love is no myth to me.