Will Some Get Faith Before They Die?

It's way too late
to be this locked inside ourselves
the trouble is
that you're in love with someone else
it should be me
it should be me
sacred parts
you get a ways
you come along
on summer days
tenderly
tastefully
it's so me
you make time
to try and find somebody else
this place is mine
set a day
you know exactly how I feel
I had my doubts little girl
I'm in love with something real
It could be me that's changing
it's so me
you make time
to try and find somebody else
who has a line
now season with health
two lovers walk a lakeside mile
try pleasing with stealth
Brody oh she stands long ending fell
oh how I love you
in the evenings when we are sleeping
we are sleeping
oh we are sleeping
It's so me
we make time
we try and find somebody else
who has a line
Now season with hell
two lovers walk a lakeside mile
try pleasing with stealth
Brody oh she stands long oh ending fell



Okay, I have to admit. I don't entirely understand that song. It's Interpol for those curious. But it has just been running around and around in my head for days and days on end. Maybe because I'm too lazy to change the CD in my car and this is the only song I can understand all the lyrics in.

I'm going to take the time to point out that my hair smells delicious. Well, okay, not delicious- I doubt anyone would have an overwhelming desire to consume it. It smells like hibiscus. I'm lying. I have no idea what hibiscus smells like. I just felt like saying that. But it does smell like flowers. Since I have no life, I feel the overwhelming need to look at the ingredients of my shampoo. Interesting. Kelp. How delicious. There's a lot of other stuff in here. Wheat germ. Pollen. Citric Acid. Wow. Now I totally understand why my hair smells good.

I'm still lying.

Can you tell I'm super bored? Because I am. I re-skim the song in here. Funny.

I wonder if the songs that get stuck in your head are like your subconsciousness's subliminal way of telling you how you feel. Well okay. It's not that subconcious or subliminal. You know what? I have no idea what I"m talking about. This is the unavoidable result of being in psych with mr. phillips. He's kind of a pothead. As Menaka pointed out once, what kind of guy gets a law degree and winds up teaching government and psych to a bunch of girls? That's what happens when you're a stoner. Which is why people just shouldn't be stoners. Or smoke fags- I mean come on. Kirsten was smoking today. Ryan stole the cigarrettes that she had and was hiding them from her, but as she grew suspicious hid them in my schmockety schmock. Not comfortable. I swear people would like notice them. I wanted to scream, "AH! I don't smoke!" but I thought that might have looked a little odd. So hence, I refrained.

Lack of steady train of thought? Yes.

Tomorrow (or more aptly, later today) I shall be going to Cedar Point. I am pretty excited. I got my pass and stuff all ready to go. Only problem is I have to be ready to go by Nine O'Clock OR ELSE serious ramifications will be induced upon me. Elizabeth has emphatically reminded me of this several times.

Lunch was super fun to the maximum today. I pretty much want to rape Friday lunch. Okay, not literally. But it's still super fun! Katie, Kate, Kristen and I (stupid me with my non-K name) (well, my last name works) really know how to party it up. And we know our STDs, let me tell you.

Is it blatantly obvious that I'm distracting my mind from thoughts it has no right to think?

Ugh. I'm getting a migrane.

I really do need to sleep. Ta my loves.