It’s late, there’s coffee and a blank note pad.
Finding out who people really are sucks!
I sing along, but I don’t know the words.
Picturing what I’ll be like in ten years.
Words are like darts aiming for the bull’s-eye.
Stalking comes naturally when in love.
Alcohol tends to make me more honest.
You love the ones that love you.
Observations are potentially wrong.
