The daily adventures and travails of one neurotic, klutzy, hungry, cynical college girl. Tune in for prizes! (offer void where prohibited. See office for details. Not responsible for lost articles.)
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Tuesday, June 13, 2006
Tiredness fuels empty thoughts
I find myself disposed
Brightness fills empty space
In search of inspiration
Harder now with higher speed
Washing in on top of me
So I look to my eskimo friend
I look to my eskimo friend
I look to my eskimo friend
When I'm down, down, down.
Rain it wets muddy roads
I find myself exposed
Tapping doors, but irritate
In search of destination
Harder now with higher speed
Washing in on top of me
So I look to my eskimo friend
I look to my eskimo friend
I look to my eskimo friend
When I'm down, down, down.
When I'm down, down, down.
When I'm down, down, down.
Remember when, in Heathers, Christian Slater suggested circling the word Eskimo in Heather's copy of Catcher in the Rye, to make a poignant remark about teen society before committing suicide? That moment has been circling my brain for a few weeks now, for absolutely no significance, I'm sure.
12:58 PM
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