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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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But That's Alright
posted on Wednesday, March 30, 2011 @ 3:57 PM
Not okay.
Nope.
But that's alright.



I wrote the most depressing poetry today.
Beyond depressing. It kind of made me want to cry reading it back in class.
Which is lame.
But that's alright.

I really really really want to fix that.
Badly. It's been eating at me for awhile.
But I regret losing it so much.
And I still feel like it's completely my fault, because I'm pretty sure it is.
But that's alright.
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