don't you dare ever tell me don't you tell me i was wrong, cause i'd rather just keep sleeping and pretend she isn't gone

10:48 p.m. x 2005-02-17

post-first-round-of-love-declarations going good. i'm exhausted and infuriated that i have to take 20th century art. but today i had child development II, and the kids came, and i met the a*somest girl ever named paige. she snubbed authority, we conspired, and i think she fancies herself the cultured intellectual of the pre-gradeschool kids. i fancy her that, too.

according to her, she reads, paints, dances, and never cries. i told her i would like her even if she did cry. she admitted that she couldn't write, and when i tried to show her how to write her name somebody bitched me out. she had "pa" and she was doing an awesome job. she was unnerved by the bitching out, and she took me to the side and we talked about her pimp wardrobe.

i'm going to write about all of the under-sixes after i sleep, because phenomena like that deserves its own entry.

if anybody should ask i'm going to a seminar
pieces of the moon
sensitive heart, you're doomed from the start
(& etc)

anybody can be just like me, obviously.
not too many can be like you, fortunately.
KL 02-11