Nov. 16th, 2005

hapticbackup: (Muuratsalo)
O, the mystery, o the iniquity, o the typing of "pst" into my itunes search field, trying to find Love Is A Battlefield. This song means more to me than it does to you, because I can't type the title without wondering which is actually the way to spell feild field. Here is something you must believe about me because it was said by someone else about me:

him: you have sentences
him: that are correct
me: thank you

Here are some other things you should believe like they were said by someone else about me. I have an immense capacity to do work. Every song is my favorite song, but especially the one I am listening to right now. If I have to wonder whether something is the case, it is not. For example: if I am wondering is she my friend? then she is not. One exception to this is, if over the course of months I keep seeing someone, or keep sitting behind him, or know his name but am still wondering does he know who I am? he does. Please let this be true, or else I am a sad sack of eyes. Also I am a fucking prize. A PRIZE. Gentlemen, you don't know what you're missing.

Wouldn't it be nice if I had a free pass, like Ayn Rand says? Doing anything would be doing the right thing because it would be done by me. Wouldn't it be nice to have a motor that drew energy out of the air? Wouldn't it be nice to have a motor that worked on the principles of passive energy? Do I have to do everything myself??!

Profile

hapticbackup: (Default)
hapticbackup

April 2016

S M T W T F S
     12
3456789
10111213141516
17181920212223
24252627 282930

Most Popular Tags

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Aug. 14th, 2025 07:18 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios