POST 100

I feel like this post should be full of deep thoughts and insightful paragraphs because it is my hundredth published post. But most likely it won't be. 

Most likely I will say something about boys

Maybe I'll mention my friends

I'll probably say something extremely empowering like " I can do anything" even though I probably can't

I could even write something cornbally about how grateful I am to all my readers (all 2 of them)

You can bet I'll mention how much I hate Mr. Anonymous.

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It's kinda funny. Lots of people start blogs. For a lot of different reasons. And maybe I'm wrong, but I think that the only ones who keep writing are those who aren't doing it to tell everyone about their day or see how many followers they can get. I think that we keep going because we are writers, and this is what we love. 

Cheers to the written word.

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Remember that time when we both starting looking for Ashton Kutcher at the same time, convinced we were being punked? That was the moment I knew my heart would be yours for a very long time.

P.s. Enjoy the ride, and hold on for dear life.

Maybe one day I'll be completely free

Sometimes I wish I had stranger with a boom box follow me around, and when I gave him the cue, he played my soundtrack. He'd play whatever song best fit the mood and events surrounding me. And then, at the end of my life, I could remember moments with songs, moments of silence, and moments where I wish a different song had been played.

but finding someone for this full time job who isn't a creep seems too difficult to even attempt.

Lately I've found something out about myself. When I imagine conversations that have happened, I wish had happened, may happen, or I hope will happen I mouth the words that i imagine will be/were said. not only that, but I plaster the expression I imagine others having on my face.

I wonder if anyone watches the girl who talks to herself, odd facial expressions and all.

Today I didn't go to fourth period.

Instead, Ezra and I walked to the pond.

We stood on the frozen lake, and we walked through the paths. Talking and laughing. We stopped and I looked around, my breath was suddenly stolen from me. The pond was white and barely visible through the thickage, the dead trees surrounding us. Most snow had melted, leaving a few dirty patches on the muddy ground. I looked at Ezra and said, "It's Shockingly Beautiful"

And he said,

"I know, it's so ugly"

and that seemed like the perfect thing to say.

I wouldn't have been surprised if I found a camera crew following us, because today, my life felt like a movie.

ready, set, breathe