dear i gotta say diary,
when things go my way, they really go my way and i don't complain about which way the water flows. i know eventually the old bucket will spring a leak and the water will either run into some body elses bucket, or simply dry up and either way- i'll get a new bucket with new water. quite possibly i could be the last whore on earth who feels this way about how they live their life, how they carry their water, and how they look to their future, but when i confront myself with the possibility of living with sand- there is no other choice.
when things go my way, they really go my way and i don't complain about which way the water flows. i know eventually the old bucket will spring a leak and the water will either run into some body elses bucket, or simply dry up and either way- i'll get a new bucket with new water. quite possibly i could be the last whore on earth who feels this way about how they live their life, how they carry their water, and how they look to their future, but when i confront myself with the possibility of living with sand- there is no other choice.
