I am that ol’ phrase “walking contradiction” made flesh. Word on the street says that I give great advice. Yet, I don’t follow half the stuff I propose.
I talk of romance, yet I truly wouldn’t be able to recognize love if it slapped me in the face.
I promote nonviolence, yet am willing to fight for the people I care for.
I don’t know where this post is going. I feel like I didn’t truly want to write about contradictions in the first place, but kind of forced myself into it.
There was this girl in my Economics class today that said that she was sad that the BP oil spill happened because she couldn’t go to the beach that summer vacation.
I exploded that period. Chunks of my melancholy flavored flesh stuck to everything, and I am but a passive aggressive ghost typing this.


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