The sky is falling down to Earth;
Save us all from going splat.
Chicken little bought a hard hat;
Did you get your money’s worth?
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What are you going to study?
I don’t know. Everything… Nothing.
I mean, what’s your major going to be?
Whatever I end up studying.
Can you spit out one straight answer?
Sarcasm is the spice of life.
…so what do you like to do?
I like writing.
You should be a writing major.
You should be a life coach.
What?
It’s not like it pays the bills or anything.
But you like writing, witty lines, playing with words; so why not be a writer?
I like playing with words, but I’m not just going to jump into bed with them.
Amidst a convention center crowded with happy bubbly people there stood a grumpy looking woman, slightly over weight, bending over to pick up trash one piece at a time, meticulously–definitely paid by the hour–her scowl and her shirt expressing her love for her job, both reading “JUST DO IT.”
burning turning tumult yearns and
sunset flowers bloom and burn in
colored sheets that fields of wheat can
replicate with just a spark.
“A lot of people regurgitate sage proverbs and advice without thinking twice. Why not take that wisdom and let it be shown, as a message, while kept as my own?”
allmostrelevant 