black slacks.

I don't feel like writing. So much has happened since I last said anything but nothing seems poetic enough to tell about. Ooohh, except the POETRY event I attended... :) That's poetic, right? That Saturday was incredible. Everything was perfect from the weather to the words to the crepes to sitting in the backseat effin' up da seatbelts. I wish I could relive that day and that night. I'm not feeling any metaphors. I'm not necessarily sleepy, I just think my head isn't in it right now. It was. And now it's not. Everytime I go on any website or even look to my left, I see a Free People magazine or ad and I'm reminded that I have no money to afford beautiful clothes like that in the magazine. But then I'm reminded again that I am unique and wear weird clothes that don't cost a lot and that puts me at ease. I want to go camping this weekend so I can at least say I did it and it didn't involve my parents. I can be an adult in the woods. I lied. I'm sleepy. I'm growing closer to friends and falling away from others.