I wanna leave my footprints on the sands to time. Know there was something that and something that I left behind. When I leave this world I'll leave no regrets. Leave something to remember so they won't forget, I was here. I lived, I loved. I was here. I did, I've done, everything that I wanted and it was more than I thought it would be. I will leave my mark so everyone will know I was here. I wanna say I lived each day until I die. And know that I meant something in somebody's life. The hearts I have touched, will be the proof that I leave, that I made a difference and this world will see I was here. I just want them to know that I gave my all, did my best, brought someone to happiness. Left this world a little better just because I was here. (obsessed with this song)  Discussin' life and all our common goals, smart kids that smoke weed, honor role. Maybe we reached the mountain peak and there's no more left to climb. And maybe we lost the magic piece and we're both too blind to find.  Being high is one of the most pleasant sensations available to mankind. Every day is Saturday. It is to be like a child' to perceive events with clarity; to look into the gates of paradise; to completely enjoy whatever you might be doing; to smile so hard that your jaw muscles get tired. Being high is to laugh at the silliest things; to understand things that have seemed absurd before; to have the aloofness of a cat; to afford a kinship with God. To be intoxicated with marijuana makes every superlative seem within your grasp. Being high make life seem terribly good. Being high is simply grand.  (Wadd up 10th grade) Every day I am grateful that I learned an open heart is a happy heart.  Sometimes I'm terrified of my heart, of its constant hunger for whatever it is it wants, the way it stops and starts.  When my days look low, pull me in close and don't let me go. Make love to me. So that when the worlds at war, that our love heal us all. Well, you know I've been lonesome. God knows we've all been lonesome. Some people think being lonesome really means being free.  So cry if you need to, but I can't stay to watch you.  Goodbye my love, into your blue, blue, eyes.  The human body essentially recreates itself every six months. Nearly every cell of hair and skin and bone dies and another is directed to its former place. You are not who you were last November.  Even people I’ve known for so long soon become strangers to me. People change and grow tired of having you in their life. I’m my own best friend. It’s sad, but it is what it is.  This is fish number six hundred and forty-one in a lifetime of goldfish. My parents bought me the first one to teach me about loving and caring for another living, breathing creature of God. Six hundred and forty fish later, and the only thing I know is everything you love will die. The first time you meet that someone special, you can count on them one day being dead and in the ground.  I wish I had a thousand words for love, but all that comes to mind is the way you move against me while you sleep. And there are no words for that.  I don't like to be unhappy and I don't like it when people try to bring their bad mood on me. I'm loving how I'm living and so excuse me when I don't give a damn. |