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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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No, I Was Actually Sick...
posted on Tuesday, January 4, 2011 @ 2:52 PM
somuchfuckingpain.
literallycannotbreathe.
ireallyyyhatemyliferightnow.
gahhwhatthefuckk.
grr.
In short, I feel like death rolled over with bayonets.

On the bright side, I had some pretty killer sex hair on this awful day.
It's the little things, isn't it?


I want this.


Also, I want this.

Also, I want you sweetheart.
But that's a topic for another day.
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