Sunday, December 18, 2005

Tell myself, on the ride home.
Getting tired, hating all I've known.
Holding on, like it's all I have.
Count me out, when it's clear that I, find it hard to say.
And you, find it hard to care.

This isn't hollywood.

/results are tomorrow.
i feel alright,calm.
but yet nervous that i wont make it to sec 5.
Dear Lord, all I need is 10 points./

love & rockets.
11:02 am

cigarette barbie