"perusing" poems
Usually people will say
happy birthday without
actually caring for the day
I am a lout
I had no idea the 26th was so important
Instead of perusing thoughts I laid dormant
Had I risen from fake wars in Afghanistan
I would have noticed it was the birthday of Lori Callahan!
I apologize for missing such a special date.
I hope it was one that no others can equate
For you deserve a day to yourself
and a special memory to put upon a shelf
Happy Birthday Lori! A friend so sweet.
Happy Birthday Lori! I hope someone massaged your feet.
Happy Birthday Lori! I hope you had a cake with candles.
Happy Birthday Lori! May this year be guided by angels.
Happy Birthday Lori Callahan!
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 12:01 AM UTC
Innocent Hyacinth tinted with mint
Tingèd grey hinged on stem singed
With chestnut leaves flowing, to me a fair hint
Of off-centred carousing, black eyes perusing
Wares of all sorts and stocks of all shares
The leading on of a pleasure most gracefully enthusing
Drops dews of all shades, of selfsame structure
And we full of rowdy Sedition;
But Wait! Recognition.
In my hopes and tired efforts, a puncture.
Music blaring loud, aftertaste of rejection
And full on full strand of all smoke addled people
Oh! How great Quasimodo I fell off my steeple
In the midst of the crowd, full dejection.
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 4:03 PM UTC
Artificial means and memes the fingers perusing naturally formed hide and go seek
Chic creatures wrought from nanoparticles based on modeled consciousness neural networks
A handsome hivemind of bee;s building trees from cds ...intersynth polygons attracted
to stack platonic forms emanation waves alpha beta delta gamma omega 1 , 2 ,3
this multiversal layering from micro to macro of matter animated by its intoned
hertz pulsations and the interferrence pattern of the changing relationship due to the amount, frequency, force, temperature , texture , text messages, timing , geometry , subharmonics and overtones, a jewel net . syncronistic synergetic, synaptical sparkles.
Sep 21, 2013
Sep 21, 2013 at 10:00 PM UTC
Holding your loved one close at night
Appreciating the existence of another
Persevering through trials and tribulations
Perusing your hopes and dreams
You create your own happiness
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 1:59 PM UTC
Hunched, gorging on the pain of others
Innocents, betrayed by acts so like your own
For what? Some twisted pleasure?
Denial? Or simply masquerade?
Foul incubus, disguised by pilfered light
An electronic reinvention of your tale
Wallowing, greedily perusing torment caused by proxies
Judas! Betrayer of the Light!
You'll be unmasked
And truth laid bare for all to see
Jul 23, 2015
Jul 23, 2015 at 6:34 AM UTC
Look up, child, before it’s too late
The years fly by and life won’t wait.
It’s not there on your tablet screen,
or any smartphone that I’ve seen.
No lovely lass can catch your eye
if you’re perusing shutterfly.
Facebook may be fun, even great,
But you have an expiration date.
You may get “likes” and have “4 bars”
Does that matter if you’ve lost the Stars?
Nov 16, 2012
Nov 16, 2012 at 7:50 AM UTC
*Reflections of Paris this morning , for all the inhabitants of the world , especially those inspired by beautiful works of art and architecture ! Those fortunate enough to have dined in world class eateries on cuisine prepared by Master Chefs , marveled over the downtown skyline high atop prominent monuments ! Impassioned lovers perusing her avenues , window shopping store fronts , boutiques along famous boulevards ! Senior couples recalling their yesteryears with great joy , frolicking , happy children playing in parklands , feeding songbirds with euphoria and curiosity , strolling walkways along the riverbank at Dusk with great wonderment and personal reflection
The poet and poetess , musician and thespian , ballet dancer and street performer .. To lovers young and old , the continued hope of gaiety and splendor at every turn !
She is lovely indeed , the Queen of all that is beautiful on this Earth* ..
Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 11:53 AM UTC
This is for the residents who remember
And for the transplants who
Have yet to be informed
But have got an inkling
Burque has gone from
Bustling to busted
And back again
Growing up in the 80’s
I learned about the
Varying degrees of “sick”
As my dad pointed out
The pekid pachucos perusing
Pharmacy isles
Attempting to purchase
Cough syrup with codeine
In the evenings
Driving home down Central
I would ceremoniously
Count hookers
My parents would
Precariously pack heat
In the trunk of our car
Or even in my mom’s special ***** pack
With the hidden compartment
For her .38 snub nose
Because you never know
Who will be in your home
When you arrive
That’s a given
When flop houses are
Interwoven with prime real estate
And barrio boundaries
Border the bourgeois’ bungalows
And Huning’s Castles
And residents rarely recognize
Or realize
That aside from the locals
The European Jews
Was the only group gutsy enough
To settle here
And create commerce
Despite risks of being raided
By Apaches
And they reaped the benefits
Off Roma and Marquette
Because the rewards
Turned out to be greater than
The risks
And up North
Where Sephardic turned Crypto
Conversions to Catholicism
Kept the Messiah’s spirit alive
But in basements
They still did Chi fives!
I was saddened in middle school
When I realized
That many of our parents
Were too ashamed of our roots
To teach us Spanish
And our
Schools ****** so severely
That most of us
Didn’t learn English either
But hey –
All you need to
Communicate while cruising
Are cat calls
And the thumping boom
Of the bass in the tubes
And the hydraulic drop
When they hit
The hot spots
From Tingley, Kit Carson and
Central to Copper
Each kid dreams that
His ride
Will be the show stopper
I could rant and rave
And rattle off for days
But bottom line –
We have the most
Curious state
With mysterious qualities
And in-depth histories
But most of us are
More concerned with
Bud Light
And Biscochitos
Con Manteca
Because it just tastes great!
Nov 23, 2012
Nov 23, 2012 at 2:39 AM UTC
DEAR MOM I AM HOMOPHOBIC
Dear mother
My guardian angel and protector
Am afraid to tell you
He was staring at me
When i went to the loo
His cold gaze pierced my back
And his unblinking eyes sent jitters down my spine
A creeping feeling enwrapped my whole being
When i turned his charming stare held me prisoner and he smiled at me
Mother i could feel his look perusing me like an art book
From head to toe i was studied
I felt naked as his hungry stare undressed me
To him i was a piece of an apple pie
I could make out gurgling sounds as he swallowed dry saliva and licked his death black lips
Lust was painted all over his mane covered face
Mom i was really scared
I regretted stepping in that club
When i returned to my seat he bought me beer
My liqour thirst was hard to bear
I betrayed my masculinity
And accepted drink from a **** sapien of male fraternity
My mind was having a cold war with my soul
Wierd thoughts tormented my intoxicated body
Where did i stand???
He welcomed himself in my table
With a gecko like grin etched on his face
"You are handsome"those were the ugliest words i had ever heard from a man
My owl like eyes bore onto him with blazing anger dancing on my eyelids
I was shaking not because i was cold but murdering instincts were elecrocuting my adrenaline
He mistook my silence and commited a cardinal sin by placing his manicured hand on my thighs
He winked as his blinking broke the speed record
I cleared my throat and i knew it was time to recorn
He thought his tactics had worked
I withdrew my hand from my pocket raised beer bottle as if to toast
He hastefully followed suit
"Chee....he never finished as i bathed him with my beer
"Hey ****** am straight"i yelped as i crushed the beer bottle on his thick skull
I heard a deafening yell
The rest i remember is being frog matched into a police car
So dear mom its not my fault am in jail
Am here because i fought
Mom am not a law breaker
Am here because i am homophobic
Feb 26, 2016
Feb 26, 2016 at 4:24 AM UTC
In a tiny allotment right next to the zoo
A miniature jungle was planted and grew
The flora was dense and the air became hot
But confined to a tidy rectangular plot
An unthinkable duo of creatures converged
And it's said that a spanking new species emerged
For a curious beast was reportedly seen
Roaming and munching on anything green
Make haste! Away! It's the Buffagorilla!
A shredder of lettuce and cereal killer
With hooves at the front and hands at the rear
The Buffagorilla is near!
It shambles about at the darkest of hours
On hedges it crunches and bunches of flowers
On daffolil bulbs and petunia petals
With hearty aplomb on a cluster of nettles
Covertly perusing with maximum hush
It can wander through gardens disguised as a bush
No carrot or parsnip is safe in its bed
And the marrows are quaking in vegetable dread
Depart! Retreat! It's the Buffagorilla!
The broccoli butcher and vegetable killer
With ape like features and horns of a steer
The Buffagorilla is near!
So if you hear a mention of butternut theft
Or notice a garden, all bare and bereft
Insure your potatoes for damage and loss
Give the salad a purely precautionary toss
For a creature is roaming the byway and track
With its legs at the front and its arms at the back
And it might be your gooseberries or chervil he spies
So I beg you take heed as I once more advise
Be gone! Take flight! It's the Buffagorilla!
The strawberry napper and cucumber killer
Just hide in your cellar and steer well clear
The Buffagorilla is near!
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 7:07 PM UTC
Perusing through the earth brown in your eyes
Your abysmal feelings lurk underneath your placid disguise
You gaze back into mine and plaster on your best smitten smirk
All I want to do is quell your inner demons with a kissing berserk
But like a whisper, I cant place my finger on it
Whatever is making your insides feel so unfit
Let me caress
to suppress all your body's ****** distress
Just crack open
Escape that inner dystopian
The superfluous light in my soul wants to spill in
so that destructive darkness can dissipate into fin
Fill in your void
I implore,"don't feel destroyed"
My heart's warmest sentiments
Dance with your mouth's jubilant upward movements
Im swarmed by the rosy love you cast on to me like a spell
I wish too that you have this frenzy feelings of fantastic to dwell
I beseech you
To save you is my virtue
You're one of the few
Whom I see in my future... 'tis true
Dec 6, 2018
Dec 6, 2018 at 9:11 PM UTC
Your body is like a road I traveled along when I was a child
Bumpy and all of the twists and turns drive me wild
Your eyes are dark blue like the sky I could not look away from when I was young
Full of stars and I cannot wait to stare into them and find constellations
Your voice is like the wind blowing through the highway fields in Illinois in the midst of spring
So swift and soft, yet could catch the attention of any person perusing through
Your hands are like gravel I fell into when I was learning to ride a bike
Rugged and painful to the touch however I cannot stop touching and yearning for more
Your smile is blinding just like the sun's reflection over Lake Michigan in the summertime
It has left everyone who viewed it enamored by its beauty and coming back for more every possible opportunity
Your demeanor reminds me of my childhood and all of the love I wanted to feel when I was young
Rare and sublime and everlasting
Dec 6, 2017
Dec 6, 2017 at 12:47 AM UTC
*Perdition falls from your lips in pretty posies
sanguinary lies woven within an embellished fairy tale
they drank the kool aid of your bastardized aspersions
it's evil spell cast, hypnotizing the living dead
devil with archangel wings doth pose in velvet idioms
spewing respite in dark undertones of ego's rejection
perusing any that would annihilate acrid truths
peer in the mirror to see the lying heathen lecher
****** venom dripping from your deceptive sword
in bitterness of jagged tongue's kissass contempt
hell hath no fury as a soulless man scorned*
How did you get to be so unkind?
Sep 29, 2013
Sep 29, 2013 at 4:12 PM UTC
**Perdition falls from your lips in pretty posies
sanguinary lies woven within embellished fairy tale
they drank the kool aid of your bastardized aspersions
it's evil spell cast, hypnotizing the living dead
devil with archangel wings doth pose in velvet idioms
spewing respite in dark undertones of ego's rejection
perusing any that would annihilate acrid truths
peer in the mirror to see the lying heathen lecher
****** venom dripping from your deceptive sword
in bitterness of jagged tongue's kissass contempt
'don't talk about it, talk about the weather'~
hell hath no fury as the man unveiled to the masses
history repeats itself and no one seems the wiser....**
How did you get to be so unkind?
Oct 13, 2013
Oct 13, 2013 at 10:12 AM UTC
London train departing from platform nine
We are pleased to say that it’s right on time
Passengers scramble on with their luggage
Looking for empty seats in the carriage
I sit at the window, gaze at the sea
Trolley comes down with sandwiches and tea
Conductor appears looking for tickets
Lots of hands searching in bags and pockets
Girl in the corner, engrossed in her book
Man in the suit gives his files a last look
Plenty of people perusing their phones
Lovely old lady sits quiet and alone
Everyone stares at the guy with tattoos
His barely dressed girlfriend with high-heeled shoes
Young guy with the headphones, chewing his gum
Little kids clinging on tight to their mum
Meaningless small talk, chatting with friends
Train’s getting slower, journey will end
Finally here at my destination
New adventure begins at the station
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 5:31 AM UTC
Your Earthly
Myths and fears
Fall hard on
Traveler's ears
(Yes there's many of us)
You bound yourselves
To earth
Where your
Superstition has giving birth
But if you truly seek
The real deal
Fear not to breach
A greater free will
Come with us
To another dimension
Where being of light
Need no inventions
Be a master, not a slave
We were never created
To be trapped in a maze!
"Cné"
Desperately
I long to go
Where creativity flows
No fear of the unknown
Or of some maze that is shown
By light, warm and unburning
Star littered night skies
Observing
hair blowing in the wind
Bright eyes shining with a glint
Unbound by time or place
Before the lost of innocence, faced
I'll give my hand, in trust
to another dimension, or bust...
"Temporal Fugue"
Through the mirror
Traveling the unknown maze
Gazing on, site's unseen
And setting them, ablaze
Through the universe
Pausing to explore
Perusing the next, traverse
And wanting, so much more
Masters of discovery
Trust, holding out her hand
Knowing forever and a day
Just a woman, just a man.
(Was that a yes or no?)
Apr 13, 2017
Apr 13, 2017 at 6:53 AM UTC
I was doing research in Hubei
Where they executed Yu,
That deity soldier glorified
By Buddhists, Taoists too,
I sat perusing manuscripts
That dated from the Ming,
And came across a reference
About Yu’s finger ring.
A ring of gold so broad that it
Would fit a peasant’s wrist,
For Guan Yu was a mighty man
His ring, an amethyst,
Set round with groups of diamonds
It was lost the day, they said,
That Sun Quan had ordered them
To lop off Guan Yu’s head.
They lost it for a thousand years
It turned up with the Ming,
Was lost again in battle with
That mighty force, the Qing,
I’d heard it round the market place
A whisper, now and then,
That ring, it might have surfaced
In the village of Maicheng.
I scoured the streets and alleyways
For signs of old antiques,
Researching as I went, I walked
Around the town for weeks,
I found a backstreet corner shop
One night, and open late,
Run by a dodgy Chinaman
A total reprobate.
He had links to the Triads, they
Would come into the shop,
A shifty group of gangsters with
Their stolen goods to pop,
From where I sat with manuscripts
Up on the second floor,
I’d look straight down the staircase
Watch them come in through the door.
One day they brought in a bundle
Tied up in a burlap sack,
Threw it down on the counter, said:
‘What do you make of that?’
Fang Zhang then opened the parcel and
He pulled out a giant hand,
The flesh the texture of leather with
A monstrous golden band.
The ring was almost immoveable
The hand, with fingers spread,
Could grasp a maiden around the waist
Or crush a warrior’s head,
I held my breath as the Triad tried
To disengage the thing,
And all the while the diamonds flashed
On that massive golden ring.
Fang Zhang paid over a block of notes
That looked more like a brick,
There must have been a million Yuan
From what I saw of it,
The Triad left and I caught my breath
Fang Zhang had pulled it off,
He threw the hand in a ******* bin
And then I left the shop.
He hid the ring as I walked on through
I had to get some air,
I’d caught a glimpse of a famous ring,
A thing I couldn’t share,
They’d say it didn’t exist, that I
Was dreaming, if I tried,
They thought that it had been lost to view
The day that Yu had died.
I went back down the following day
The Police were there in force,
They stood out front and barred the way
From normal ***********
They told me through an interpreter
Of the ****** of Fang Zhang,
His face was black, for around his neck
Was a massive, ringless hand!
David Lewis Paget
(Pronunciation: Guan Yu - Gwon you
Hubei - Who - bay; Sun Quan - Sun Chu-arn
Qing - Ching; Maicheng - My - cheng
Fang Zhang - Fang Shjang (soft J))
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 9:26 PM UTC
you are the words that breathe through me. lift, move me. the item for a shopper's perusing; for use and abuse-ing. i'm your bend over barbie doll, your late night ***** call, the push over & the fall. i scrape myself off your boot; keep waiting for trees to bear fruit. it's funny how you can **** me til i'm lame & i still believe i deserve more pain.
how can i believe i'm worth your while when i know you don't care about proving it to me? it's so much sexier for you to see me beg, watch me grovel & worship your **** as if you are my only hope (for all intensive purposes, i mostly believe you are; you save me from facing myself at night. seminated distraction as masochistic salvation).
leave me mangled gasping hair tangled in your fingers grasping & you're lingering by the door, contemplating whether to leave me or take me on the floor. this is all i am to you: tested tried wrong used. bleed me until you stop seeing red, drag me willing or indifferent back to your bed.
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 3:59 PM UTC
Perusing poet’s pandemic prose
A question in my mind arose
Angst aside what have they got
Ill tell you friend
It’s not a lot
Excuses for the lives they lead
Plant the idea
Nurture the seed
Willing victims succumb to their charm
Understandingly
Unerringly
Blind to the harm
The harm of a contrived reality
Dressed up as spirituality
Pretence of a world that doesn’t exist
Sensibility shrouded in gullible mist
Hurt worn as a badge of pride
Careful it’s not misapplied
Lest they see your
Jekyll and Hyde
Wary what’s put out in rhyme
Slowly ******* you in
One at a time
Once the carrot is gobbled up
Once they drunkest from the cup
No holds barred
The game is on
Universally singing the same old song
This life I lead has ****** me dry
Left me often wondering why
Life lived only on the edge
Carefully honouring the kudos pledge
Passion intense is
Their line of defence
Bruised and battered
Tattered and torn
Eternally waiting for life to return
So…Readers beware of the poets lure
Their chosen words are not the cure
This Forum is their new aged lair
In shadows waiting to ensnare
Whilst drowning in narcissistic despair
You’re a fragile soul
With a fragile life
And they will wield their pen
Like a well butchered knife
So please… do not believe that you are The One
You are merely a chapter in a story that’s already begun
Feb 9, 2011
Feb 9, 2011 at 2:06 AM UTC
The subject of this email is as usual... subjective! Not sure there is actually a subject involved? I mean if I just ramble on about any old thing that crosses my mind, how would that be described as a subject. I submit that the "subject" line of all emails should be moved to the end of an email! That way we would have a better grasp of what the subject of the email truly is.
Better yet it should automatically prompt you to go to the subject line when you click "send" to fill in at that time. Maybe the email program should even give samples of possible subject lines based on google's interpretation of what you have typed in the body of the email. Better yet that program should just run automatically and impose a subject line based on the information in the message body after it is run through several psychiatric data bases and analyzed and a consensus has been reached...
Hmmm... Now I'm thinking that there should be a mind to keyboard interface so we can do away with all this time-consuming typing! And while we're at it why not add a chip in our brains that thinks for us and sends the data it receives directly to the keyboard interface... I mean think of all the time we would save not having to think any more!
Why stop there? We can also add emotion chips so that when we are letting our thinking chip talk for us we can also have the emotions that our emotion chip thinks we should be feeling automatically inserted into the email with the capability of it being felt by the emotion chip in the person whose thinking and keyboard interface chips are perusing the email written by our thinking and keyboard interface chips.
Ooooh now I'm really thinking... why not install mini SD drives in our brains so we can change the way we feel by simply inserting a new SD card? That way if we happen to read one of the emails thought out by our thinking chip, written by our keyboard interface chip, analyzed and consented to by the psychiatric data bases and given a subject and we decide that we want to change the way it is perceived by the thinking chip of the recipient we can simply insert a different emotion SD card into our SD drive and have those new emotions embedded directly into the email!
*** This is genius! Imagine the time we could save! I could just go on and on with this! The applications are limitless. Why hasn't someone thought of this before? Oh wait, what am I thinking... this is old news. This is called brainwashing and the government and every major company in the world has been doing it since the dawn of capitalism!
I'm going to stop now because I am no longer sure if the words I write are my own, or if they are just a bunch of noise created by the humm of all the post hypnotic suggestive clutter in my brain from years and years of commercial TV and slick politician abuse.
That's all I have time for this morning. I apologize in retrospect for the emotional agony I have put your brain through while reading this inane banter...
Oct 29, 2019
Oct 29, 2019 at 10:38 AM UTC
In a desolate desert where peaches are scarce
An oasis appears and a goddess prepares
To ****** her next partner with apples and pairs
And proposing a union she takes me upstairs
Into the skyline and over the weather
To a room in the clouds we inhabit together
The book of life opens, she reads me my rites
Informing my dreams for a thousand more nights
Our foreplay, like Gospel, begins with a word
Whispering wisdom and secrets unheard
While waves of effulgence wash over my ears
And unspeakable lightness conveys me to tears
The courtship completed she lifts up her veil
Undresses her figure and shows me her tail
Her gown on the floor in a soft silky heap
And we drift to the bedroom where cherubin sleep
Melting like butter, collapsing before her
Her miracle strength has me backed in a corner
And so I surrender, no use to resist
Beaten by Ishtar, I wait to be kissed
She spreads herself open, unnaturally wide
Receiving my body and spirit inside
Inserting my tome like a book on her shelf
We form an anthology, bound in one self
No match for a goddess and giver of life
And yet we conjoin as a husband and wife
The muse and the poet are spun in one strand
Just see how my pen is now firm in her hand
With one leg in heaven and one in my bed
I recline and receive her celestial head
Arousing my mind and exchanging our dreams
Through visions that swim in ethereal streams
Perusing her volumes and rarely seen stacks
A scholar who studies the shadows and cracks
I reach out to ****** her wavydark hair
Her substance reflecting like dust in the air
I dip in her inkwell again and again
In search of the words that will flow from my pen
Receiving and giving, a cycle unending
Eternal rewards from the muse I’m befriending
Jan 1, 2019
Jan 1, 2019 at 4:16 AM UTC
~~~Black Sky~~~
*Moonlight dims and go into blur,
Guiding stars hide behind a monstrous view,
Bereaving clouds gather as the sky turns dark
Spreading,
As it ruves and hover,
Perusing the sky
From dark to black,
Moments in circles
As rain comes calling,
The air smells silence
As a black night emerges
The moon has gone hiding
There's no guiding star
There's no glowing moon
And all that is left is black
A black sky*
All rights reserved Ovi©
Oct 12, 2016
Oct 12, 2016 at 7:38 PM UTC
Saturday morn bedded in quiet,
the days of noisy children invading,
decades back
so we lay together blessed and blissed
Me, drafting words into ship shapes,
She, perusing boots pocketbooks and
A line dresses for some occasion
I start to cry for I alone
know she is the far, far better poet,
but refrains from composing
in words...for my sake
she says soft,
while drinking my tears and comforting,
*"helping you to compose,
giving you peace of soul,
and verdant happiness,
my darling,
is more than enough"*
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 9:11 AM UTC
Dear High School Me,
Freshman -
It's not you. It's not your fault. You are who you are and don't let anyone make you feel bad about that. Don't change yourself to please them, it won't work. You'll be accepted, but still held at bay. You'll never truly be accepted by them, and that's okay. You don't need their acceptance. You are human, and so are they. They aren't better than you, and you aren't lesser than them.
Sophomore -
You've accepted yourself, congratulations! Focus on that during the rocky times. This year will be the hardest one of your life. You'll try to end your life before it can begin. The present is painful, but the future is beautiful... Focus on that. The "weird" behaviors you have right now are coping mechanisms, don't be too hard on yourself. Your body is trying to protect you. Let it. When they follow you into the bathroom and you feel like you're in danger, listen to that feeling. Don't start blaming yourself, none of this is your fault. When they stalk you, and tell you that they're broken and utterly in love with you even though they've never met you before, that is a sign of psychosis, not a sign that you need to fix them. Don't let them guilt you into doing things you don't want to. This year will end, things will start to look up.
Junior - Don't let her guilt you into befriending your stalker. Use your backbone, you have one for a reason. You're allowed to dislike people. Especially people who stalked you. (seriously self, *** were you thinking?) Sing. Sing loudly and sing proudly. Don't be scared. This is what you love. Keep looking up. You will get out of this town this year. You'll go to a place where people accept you. You'll find your passions. You'll find yourself again.
Senior - This is your year of recovery. Use it wisely, but don't be scared when it comes to an end. You can't put off life forever.
Dear Present Me, you're a performer. You adore theatre. You have goals and passions and you're in college perusing them. You're singing, and learning, and loving, and laughing, and being you. And I am so, so, proud of you.
Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 11:01 PM UTC