THE TIME: 12:03 PM
THE MUSIC: Somehow; Good Morning Maxfield
THE MOMENT: Cowlick'ed hair and pajamas at Noon.
Yesterday I was a sad girl.
Today I am too, but maybe a little better.
The goal is not to be a mopey-helpless sad,
but instead a hopeful-keep-believing type of sad.
The goal is not to be a mopey-helpless sad,
but instead a hopeful-keep-believing type of sad.
Within the past few days:
I have stood, sat, ran, twirled, screamed, and sang in the rain.
I have watched confused rock and roll boys, in their tattered skinny jeans, sing into microphones in the middle of the street. I have stared a boy in the face who somehow had nothing to say to me. (I still know I could love him.) I have been the elusive girl on the crosswalk, shivering in the wind, singing myself home in the dark, staring down the headlights of those forced to wait on me.
I have come home to the calm feeling of my friends.
I am thankful.
I have stood, sat, ran, twirled, screamed, and sang in the rain.
I have watched confused rock and roll boys, in their tattered skinny jeans, sing into microphones in the middle of the street. I have stared a boy in the face who somehow had nothing to say to me. (I still know I could love him.) I have been the elusive girl on the crosswalk, shivering in the wind, singing myself home in the dark, staring down the headlights of those forced to wait on me.
I have come home to the calm feeling of my friends.
I am thankful.
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