Important ANNOUNCEMENT. Not really.
DramaTweets
For a Good Cause...
With my current condition of becoming an insomniac every time I get a break from classes, I decided to make a blog entry. Oh yes. Yet another insomnia-based entry.
So well anyhoo, I was going through my Multiply account. (Yes, THAT Multiply account that I hardly ever open.) (I'm not into uploading one million pictures for the entire world to see.) (I'm into... wait, I've said this before.) (Major case of déjà vu here.) (Anyhoo, I think I said, "I don't know what I'm into exactly," or something like that.)
Where was I? Oh, yaaah. Multiply, right. Got it.
I was going through what people posted and I came across my friend's blog entry about "no more trash talk.." and I realized that lately I've been going around with a sailor's mouth attached to my face.
Couldn't help it. Or maybe I could've but then I went through a bunch of nasty stuff in the past two or three weeks that I've forgotten that I hated girls with mouths my mother would like to wash with soap. And there I was, becoming one of them.
Thank God for other people who realize their mistakes... and announce it to the whole world wide web.
So here it is, the point of this guilt-induced entry:
I PROMISE NOT TO SAY BAD WORDS.
I should write that down one hundred times like I used to in grade school. Only back then it was a mixture of that, and "I PROMISE TO DO MY HOMEWORK."
...and some "I PROMISE NOT TO TALK IN CLASS"es
Oh dear Lord, I was a horrible kid back then, was I? No wonder the school's owner hated me.
Oh well. Thank goodness I've changed. Sort of. I still talk in class but I do it in a "I totally respect you, Prof. That's why I always stop talking when you look at me" kind of way. And I make it a point to do my homework.
So there it is.
And here comes sleep. Finally. Good night, Luvs. Good Morning. Whatever.
DramaQueen files this under la-dee-da
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A Poem
By Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there's some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
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