I know it's been a while, but I'm starting a new. I am "revisiting" old pleasures and revamping my delicate residual feelings. It seems everyday brings a new hope that someday, I will forever be different. Maybe I'm just saying this because it's a new year. Fuck it. I said it because it's true.
More and more I find the irony of situations. How this world seems to fall in place oh so perfectly wither it be for the better or the worse. With the cold I feel invigorated. I am seeing as an onlooker and not a participant. I'm not sure if I like this or not, but it is new and I'm content with change. It seems that just yesterday I was in dire need of the people around me, and yet, today I am content with this soloist lifestyle. All I need are those who want so dearly to be with me to follow. I would rather not stoop low enough to be a follower, granted we need a few of them. I jsut would rather not be counted amongst their numbers. Be a black sheep, and don't stop there.
A good friend once told me that white wine was the only good wine. I think I would rather have limited knowedge of both red and white than a connoisseur in just one (I admitted to only caring for red, by the way.) Alright, do us part. Just me and my classics, only thing to do now is to read.
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