THOSE WHO SUFFER LOVE
You tell me why some things come out pretty and some ugly, and I swear I'll never ask any more questions.
I am so tired.
Think hotel room at one a.m., walk for dying children, shopping in a place I'm far, far away from, having to explain what the holocaust was, AND uncomfortable shoes.
Which, actually, doesn't explain anything as to what I actually did today.
But I don't care, make up your own stories.
I think I'm going to throw up.
I hope I do.
It would be a refreshing change for the better. And I need some variation.