a chance for better days.

I’m totally loving damien right now cause he updated my music library like crazy!!! I LOVE THE GOO GOO DOLLS! I didn’t know they were SO FREAKING NICE. not weird or poserish or like annoying even a tiny little bit but just ULTRA nice to listen to.

Anyway,

There’s this song that talks about the CHANCE of better days and how just the fact that it might hapen is enough for the singer. And I don’t know it made me feel really happy that though it was indefinite and just floating bout in an abyss of hopes and dreams, and other stuff along those lines, the singer held on to the hope alone. Sure a song commercilised and all that crap but a girl can choose to believe right? Y’know not many of us are like that (myself included) always chasing after concreteness and actuality. Simply never satisfied. Well, aren’t we all.

Just anote on the side, I HATE THE JONAS BROTHERS like to the maximum ability that it is humanly possible to hate something (acutually no lah huh, but you get my drift) They totaly ripped off AND messed up Busted’s songs. OOOK its not like I’m a huge fan of Busted or anything but like seriously C’mon! They tried changing it here and there cause busted has some well let’s just say not very “safe” lyrics and well Jonas Brothers changed them to fit the teenybopper crowd or some shit like that.

 

URGH! annnoying little pretty boys who can’t sing hearing their voices makes we almost wish I had dementia. almost.

melted mess.

That’s what I feel like right now. A reddishly green and yellow upside down cone mashed up at the side of the road. Even my cone is broken down beyond repair. And yet, I’m not tyring out or anything I’m just pushing forward. WHY? Because in that mess of bleak hope and pure numbness there is a certain familiarity that has grown to become comfortable. I find true solace in the fact that that are issues right now just floating about that I simply cannot deal with. This mess, this cold dry wintery season somehow feels like home. I guess in a scary way that makes me feel at rest, enough at least for me to push myself with every ounce of strength left to just study and think about nothing else. I wonder at the end of it all will I retain any minute senseof priscyness or would I have to walk around with a name tag attached to my chest as no one can recognize the creature that now stands morphed to depict my former self.