Getting a Rose
Isn't worth
Watching it die
Isn't worth
Watching it die
Here is the place where I am to ramble about life and love and languages. You'll probably encounter some quasi-anthropological ranting and a lot of wanderlust. I do try not to be too emo, and occasionally throw in things of worldly interest, so stop by and read if you have a few minutes. :)
Whom to Know
- Elindomiel
- I'm a university student who likes languages, literature, and having friends from all over the world.
Blog Archive
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2006
(334)
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February
(20)
- Tu Ne Quaesieris
- Fifteen...
- Ich Will... Mangas Largas
- Persian in a Norwegian Accent
- State Tournament!
- Flags...
- A Conversation full of El Estres
- A Conversation at 2:00 am
- A Conversation on the Bus
- Die Suxxorz
- Sophomore Research Paper
- Now... It's Just Funny
- Miranda's First Valentine
- Alles Gute Zum Gebürtstag!
- Roses
- The Sun!
- Carpe Nivem!
- Breakfast Club!
- Snow!
- Colder Weather and Longer Days
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February
(20)
1 comment:
:P That day I threw out my flowers from Mrs. Desloge, and went to school only to receive a rose from Mrs. Schlarman. I carried it around all day and smelled it, but when I came home I tore it apart with my fingers. It almost hurt inside, but it a way it was better than the incontrollable forces of time slowly wilting the flower into nothingness. No, just a moment, the red petals staining your fingers, the scent filling the kitchen, then, nothing. Just a memory, always fresh.
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