Rendezvous
21 November 10 : 04.09 AM
i would like to go back to when I was 18 and undeniably poetically emotional.
you can so tell, here. or maybe earlier, like here, 17 years old and wandering. b. once called me 'quietly perceptive' (once upon a time), and now i think about all those times i'm hopping around some club (yes i use the word 'hop' on myself, because if only you can hear the silent giggles i hold inside), hugging people from behind to surprise (giggling) and making idle talk (giggling) and making self-deprecating or flirtatious jokes (giggling). i like being a happy person, but it's impeding the melancholic writer (you can't be a happy person and be a writer, it's a fact) hidden inside. the one that's dying to come out so i can finish my fucking essay.