When you watch love live and die you understand exactly what it means. As you watch it fall out of your hands and into another you don't understand what you have lost, you never really know until you see someone else with it how much you might need it; but most of all you don't know what love is until you have experienced it, lost it, and watched your friend lose it. I keep telling myself this isn't about me but I think it is. I realized today how often I lie and for the little reason I do, and I have decided I am going to try and stop lying as much as I can, and I promise I won't cuss anymore because I told I wouldn't, and I don't lie anymore. Tomorrow seems like it is going to be an ill-faded photograph and I just don't want to wake up for it. I never understood how pathetic certain people can be and how long it could take to realize it, and I feel horrible now for not seeing it as I laughed silently at my own stupidity. The people on my bus are shallow and self absorbed, I tried to read my book undesturbed and enjoy the weather that is prisoned off from me by a inch of glass and metal but I couldn't as I listened to a girl rant on about how unforgetable she is and how some young boy is probably head over heels sick as he wishes she were there. So yes, that is how my day always works out, the suspense adds to my emotional tornado and it stops without a whirr as I climb the fateless steps and trip over myself finding a way back to my seat in the back where Thomson and Carol wait perminately inked onto the green psuedoleather back of the seat in front of me. My days repeat, at one time I believed all days where like snowflakes, you see thousands before you die and no two are like, but now I think I may only see hundreds and that they will all be the same.