Now, I'm listening to Outkast. The days is getting better right before it's about to end. I'm not looking at the monitor while I type this, so if there are typos, I'm sorry. My face is buried in a pillow, the cold side of a pillow.
It's the best feeling in the entire world.
I want to tell you, whoever is reading this blog right now, exactly what I'm feeling and what I'm thinking about and who I'm thinking about, but it doesn't seem possible. I've actually typed a few paragraphs that just aren't making sense.
I have somebody in my life that gives me the bungee cord is stretched all the way and everyone on the bridge is gasping because their eyes are making them believe the cord will snap but their heart knows that the cord is going to just flex and contract until everything around them stops moving feeling.
A girl can do this to you.
My eyes feel like that little triangle piece that floats around in the blue water of an 8-Ball and tells you how many women you'll sleep with. It's time to close them so the triangle stops spinning.
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