And It Was Her Last Winter

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the barren waste is your land, your crops, they were sown to die

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welcome to this rathole I call a blog. my posts are mainly about metal (oh yes ah \m/) and how mundane my life is. if you don't like the stuff here, go fuck yourself. no one gives a crap. you're a sad excuse for a human being.

Monday, 16 November 2009

How?

Hello (inserts name here). Can I talk to you? Can I tell you why I like you and why I have the urge to run my fingers through your messy brown hair (and comb them too) every time I'm near you? Can I explain why I was being an idiot last Friday?

And can I tell you how gorgeous you look and how hilarious I think you sound like every time we acknowledge each other?

Labels: questions, you