Saturday Morning, 3 AM

0

I can hear the soft breathing of the girl that I love,
As she lies here beside me asleep with the night,
Her hair like a mist as it floats on my pillow,
reflecting the glow of a winter moonlight.

But she knows and I know that I’ll never be,
as good as the ones who came before me

So I’ll play my guitar and I’ll gently weep,
Drowning in my man made sea.

More Posts

I like to think of the endings of things. Sometimes it makes me appreciate the current state of things, knowing things are just going to get worse. That sounds a bit depressing and cynical, but I mean… nothing lasts forever and endings are rarely happy ones. We wouldn’t be so afraid of them if that

I didn’t know what to write about for the blog, but I happened to find an assignment I wrote for psychology class a few months ago. Enjoy. Thinking about it over and over again was probably the worst part of it. Not saying that the actual experience wasn’t a horrible terrifying experience, but the anticipation

We’ve all heard the news stories of kids committing suicide because of cyber bullying. In the beginning I always thought, ‘how could someone do that to someone else so publicly and not be stopped?’ Since then, I’ve had much more experience seeing cyber bullying first hand, and I saw that it was so much more