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They're not stolen

I didn't know it was possible to feel elated and distraught at the same time. It's such a weird vibe. I think now I finally understand why people cry at graduation.

It's a tricky thing, this growing up biz. Because everytime I think I'm taking two steps forward, what if I'm really taking two steps back? And what if it's all the same thing anyway and doesn't even matter? And what if opposites really don't attract?

Yes girl you know it's true. I I I I I need you. Yes maybe it's true I'm more afraid to be alone than you.

It's hard to remember sometimes where your stories stop and mine begin, I get confused. Did that happen to me or was it someone else? I don't have any interesting stories, I think they're all borrowed. A library of memories in my head or something.

A red balloon with a note inside that flies away and someone finds it. I wish that one was mine.

And even the time someone rode a unicycle to the Axel F song at the junior high talent show? That one is Ally's I'm sure of it.

And every song lyric I thought was something else? "Little Red Corvette" vs "Baby Lorette Come back."

Stolen!

Well, they're not stolen. They're put away.

4:19 p.m. - 2006-02-02

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history - mystery