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"He did not know why he was so irrationally happy, for nothing had changed in his life or hers. He had not even touched the tip of her fingers or looked her full in the eyes. But their evening together had given him a vision of what life at her side might be, and he was glad now that he had done nothing to trouble the sweetness of the pircture. He had a fancy that she knew what had restrained him..." (Wharton 56)

Sometimes, a cup of coffee, a guitar, and a breezy day makes everything seem alright.
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posted on Tuesday, August 17, 2010 @ 11:16 PM
I feel all sickly and such.
I don't like it very much, in fact. I think it's pretty lame.
I'm so sick of being tired. And oh so tired of being sick.

"I like birds.
If you're small and on a search,
I've got a feeder for you to perch on."
-I Like Birds; Eels

Where'd the happy go? I'm not so sure.
It'll come back when it feels like it.
Maybe.
"Well I like...birds."
I'm exhausted, but can't sleep.
I must be sick.
Stress is back. Yum.
I freaking love school.
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