Post Two-Hundred and Twenty.

Peace Blogger.

I'm digging Tumblr, now.

Post Two-Hundred and Nineteen.

There used to be a time when I would question the purpose of death. I believe the first real time was in, I believe, 4th grade. A girl in my class, once of the nicest girls ever at the time, died in a car accident. I didn't understand it. Sure, I knew people died all the time. But, I never expected such a thing to happen so close to me.

Though, now, I see that death is necessary for life to continue. I honestly see the process of life and death as something similar to the Circle of Life, if you will--or even the Gaia hypothesis (please note Final Fantasy VII, or even freaking Avatar, and my total credibility (;). Anyways. I see it as that we are neither created nor destroyed. Once we die, we return to the planet as energy, in sorts, and reborn as whatever needed to keep the equilibrium.

I'm not quite sure why I was thinking about all this right now. Maybe it's the Mucinex.

Post Two-Hundred and Eighteen.

Isn't this song supposed to be a happy one? Honestly, whenever I hear it... all it does is make me cry. Those few months weren't worth it. We should've just been friends. But, hey... no regrets, right?

School's almost out. Graduation is next Sunday. Everything always goes so fast. I feel as if I haven't accomplished all I've wanted to. It is as if preschool was only yesterday.

This just means that it is time for change. It is about time I start improving.

Post Two-Hundred and Seventeen.

There's so much music that I haven't listened to in ages.

Post Two-Hundred and Seventeen.

Post Two-Hundred and Sixteen.

Do you ever feel like you fake half of your life?

All the time. It's moreso a feeling of something along the lines of an outer body experience. I consider my life to be like a poorly written sitcom that I'm watching on the telly. Most of the time I don't think about what I'm saying and don't bother to really listen to what people are talking about.

So, to answer your question... I'd go with yes, in a sense.

Ask me anything

Post Two-Hundred and Fifteen.

Time to let go of material possessions.

I wish I could pull off something as rad as that.

Post Two-Hundred and Fourteen.

We're all growing up.
We're all getting lost.
Hell...


We're almost all grown up.

Post Two-Hundred and Thirteen.

I'm thinking this is my inner demon of sorts.