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i started writing something once. everyone i showed it to thought it was really good, but i never really figured out what i wanted to write about.
like i started it but never finished it cause i didn't know what the plot was going to be about.
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Unsettled
I cannot prepare for that which I cannot foresee; therefore, forgive me should I appear constantly unsettled by your behavior. The only patterns I base my life on are yours, and the routine which I derive from your behavior is only as solid as your adherence to your own behavioral patterns. If I cannot understand you, how can I live for you?
What does a blind, deaf, quadriplegic baby get for Christmas?
*Cancer*
Cure for overpopulation = Bubonic Plague
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