♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦← Life →♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦☼♦
So, things have been pretty laid back. School is going well, and I have a boyfriend. This'll make the second one I've ever had? Yes, I am picky.
I believe I can now accurately describe what love is:
It's like being a moth buzzing around the Lightbulb of Awesome and Dee Dee Dee. You know that the light will turn you into a love-struck gabby little retard that doodles the sort of love notes you see carved into trees and the wrists of emos, but you can't seem to resist how perfect and shiny it is. You fling yourself into it happily, uncaring towards the potential pain, long trips down to the floor, and loss of honor. To make the whole situation that much more masochistic, you not only do you do this to yourself willingly, but you enjoy every minute of it.
...I'm going to comfort myself with the knowledge that humans are naturally this mad.
Comfort the disturbed. Disturb the comfortable.
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I refuse to have a battle of wits with an unarmed person. ಠ_ಠ
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I refuse to have a battle of wits with an unarmed person. ಠ_ಠ
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Life is a cement trampoline.
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I refuse to have a battle of wits with an unarmed person. ಠ_ಠ
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Gallery | Stock | Sunny Baker
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I refuse to have a battle of wits with an unarmed person. ಠ_ಠ
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