Musical brother just proposed to me (I should explain, our musical tastes are match as closely as blood types in siblings, he is my brother through music not my brother who is musical. Although he is musical. But he's not my brother) and despite the fact that he was actually quoting Morrisey I considered accepting. Any offspring we produced would be simply fabulous, what with mummy's dress sense and writing ability (I rock, okay? My "style is a pleasure to read" and I "have talent". Next week I'll be back angsting over my uselessness with words and the fact I'll never amount to anything, so allow for this weeks arrogance) and daddy's musical taste and ambition and sense of humour. And with two of my favourite people, dirtygirl and drummerboy (don't worry, cast list coming soon), as godparents and a large Hacienda flat to grow up in how could they fail to be amazing? Back in reality, where I'm at college wondering what to do with my life and not linking him to my diary because I'm scared he'll judge me by the many entries about manwhore (and the fact that I call him manwhore...), I said no. PS go say a big hello to todd. because i said so!
< - >
* the marks of memories forgotten
* wasting emotions, over again
* intentions, and such
* nothing unusual, nothing's changed - just a little older, that's all (damien rice : amie)
* now I understand! It doesn't make sense because it isn't supposed to
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