And things are different? Perhaps. Perhaps they are. I don't know what sense you can draw from it. But they are different. Oh! I now have the entire Firefly collection. I've written my draft of essays. I met another old classmate; strange, but some women can look fine.
I trip on Oasis, goldfish and the little pleasure one obtains from watching people do silly in dark dingy places called nightclubs.
I also bumped into three school pricks of mine. Who at the fine age of 23 looked pretty messed up. I wasn't happy to see how they were. But I did realise that things come around. In the sense that when I was in my Woody Allen looking days in class 7, I remember being pushed and shoved around by a prick who didn't take things too politely when people asked them how they were.
The same lot not seemed as though the boats been upturned. Cheers to you mofos!
It's a Sunday. I'm at work. But it's ok. Things will change. Then I will look for a change again.
Okay, be cool!