Evil Internet; Colours; The ultimate cowards

My internet has been screwy for a while now.
Sometimes it works and other times...
not so much.

So it bothers me
since my cell phone is out for repairs,
ergo my phone book is out with it.
So I have little to no way of contacting people.
Isn't that a drag?

(Spot the other piece of me
I am rather dependant on my friends
to make sure I don't turn into a
crazy O.C.D hermit
with notebooks
and spagetti-o's for lunch everyday)



I relate my feelings to colours.


I am green today;
fresh & clean
bright like a spa

I am orange today;
loud & messy
creative like paint

I am red today;
sexy & passionate
& full of life.

I am gold today;
shining & glowing
like a new piece of writing.

I am silver today;
as good as gold
melodic like a song.


It's so easy to hide
so easy to shield yourself
w/ the words you write.
It's easy to pretend.
To lie.
To be honest.
Words are easier
than speech.
"Hello"
"Goodbye"

Because anything can mean anything
what's real doesn't have to be.
It's all up to interpritation.

Maybe writers are secret cowards.
I know I am.