Monday, March 29, 2010

its about tapeing a plastic bag over your head, and waiting for jesus

in five years i want to move to sydney, arkensas, or atlantas and start a family, name my children after odd numbers and teach them russian nursery rhymes, and the art of manipulating the ones you love.
in five years i want to marry you, but i dont know if you like odd numbers, or even if you like me all that much. maybe you'd like me if i tell you that i'm a mermaid, but i'm not and you can always tell when i am lying. in five years i want to be seventeen, but wishes dont work like that. i tried. in five years i want to be on a plane, and i want the plane to crash and i want everyone to be okay execpt for you. but if you were a mermaid you would be okay i suppose. you could just swim away.
in five years i want to be out of this bed, in five years i want to be crowned king of all lower case letters, in five years i want to say "your the best thing that has ever happened to me", and mean it.
in five years i hope to either be a writter or dead. but i shouldnt get my hopes up.

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