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Thursday, June 1, 2006


Which brings me to you

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"My own kind. I'm not sure there's a name for us. I suspect we're born this way: our hearts screwed in tight, already a little broken. We hate sentimentality and yet we're deeply sentimental. Low-grade Romantics. Tough but susceptible. Afflicted by parking lots, empty courtyards, nostalgic pop music."

I really like this book that I'm reading. It's very interresting. It's like a tragic romantic comedy, but more comedy.

3 exams down, 1 to go. This one's the hardest too. Ack, history.

Wow, I really don't have anything to talk about today, considering I'm in a very ashamed at myself for doing something I did.
No, I'm not going to tell you what it was, but I feel like a dumbass because of it.

That's my life though *sigh*

I feel sick.

Love,
Clingwrap




... how should I know?



“Never pretend to love which you do not actually feel, for love is not ours to command.” - - Alan Watts

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