And how you always talk of catching me but never open up your hand

And how you always talk of catching me but never open up your hand

Day 08 - A picture of yourself



Super cheesy over-the-top editing.  But I like this picture.  I don't think it looks like me - but maybe like the me I want to be:  a combination of the me that loves cheesy love songs and the me that likes epic fantasy stories and the me that is a grammar Nazi and hates slang and the me that wants to live in France and parler francais toujours.  I feel like all those parts of me are separated - like I can't be all of them at once.  Maybe that's just part of growing up, growing into yourself, or finding yourself and figuring out who you are.

Now I need to go wash my good gladiators because I wore them in the dirt the other day and they feel gross and I want to wear them tomorrow possibly, and I need to pack all my history books into a bag so I can turn them in and be rid of them tomorrow (that is, if I can lift it).  And then I need to go to bed and attempt to fall asleep at a decent hour so I can survive this hell of a week.  


Almost summer almost summer almost summer summer summer.  I can do this.