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Because the wind is high, it blows my mind.

Is there anybody going to listen to my story?

Do you ever feel as though... maybe you were only meant to be in another being's life for a mission, to lend out your hand per say?

I'm not too sure where I'm supposed to fit in this person's life anymore and it scares the living Hell out of me.

* * *

Does this mean that I've accomplished the mission? Does it mean that... this is over?

I've lost my map once again. Time to re-draw another one, yeah?

You hear that...?

The winds of change.

Are you ready? I know I am.



But this is besides the point. I have a new obsession, Bright Eyes. One of my incredibly good friends, her name also Megan, burned me fifteen CD's including Bright Eyes; Son, Ambulance; Maria Taylor; Feist; Stars; and Damien Rice.

I haven't gotten through all of them yet, but I'm already deep in the roots of love and there's no way out.



Hope you two readers are doing well. Peace.

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WhenTheCuriousGirlRealizesSheIsUnderGlass