arms or wings

you have arms, not wings, dear. do not try to do what you were not made for. and likewise, dear, make quiet use of that which you have.

i'm pretty sure...

if i met mr. right i would blow him off.
probably because i just met mr. adorable-trying-to-talk-to-me-at-a-coffee-shop-but-i-was-too-busy-and-frankly-unaware-of-what-was-going-on-:(

all i have to say is mr. right better be able to deal with initial rejection.

sorry.
+
in other related news, these delightful songs remind me of books, sweaters, and coffee shops:

quiet.

i'm not shy, i'm not anti-social. i'm not a non-communicator. i'm just quiet.

loud feet outside the door in the hallway. blaring horns, music and tv's turned up too loud.

at times i just really do not feel like talking. it never really seems to get me anywhere anyway these days. no one listens. i can understand what is going on without needing words.

these long november nights just make me want a warm sunny patch of ground in a forest and a friend i can nod to and they will just smile and understand.

the weird thing is i have gotten really good at being a extrovert. i can almost guarantee if you were to be introduced to me, you'd never know. playing the confederate. it's just how i make it by.

being quiet is such an ugly trait to have. people can't stand silence. it makes them nervous. watch people. they have to have be talking, have music on, pretending to text, they can't handle a bit of quiet.

only problem with my little too well-done act, is after time it really wears me out. it makes me day-dream of retreating by myself, only to be interrupted by "GAH! what are you doing staring off into space! i want to talk about such-and-such unimportant such-and-such!"