Thought Process
"We knew the girls were really women in disguise, that they understood love, and even death, and that our job was merely to create the noise that seemed to fascinate them." - The Virgin Suicides
about me
Denise Chang, Illegal eighteen, currently rocking and rolling around, trying to find my own identity. Loves Chelsea, Justin Timberlake and the finer things in life (; Formspring Twitter Tumblr Facebook
#59 Two's not a crowd.

Or maybe it is. Two thoughts that have been, well, crowding my head.

Sometimes, when two people are sitting on opposite ends of a room, not making eye contact, not looking at each other, people never know. People never know that they might have once spent time together, doing things like ice skating, going to concers, or studying, or not-studying. That maybe, not too long ago, they were as close as two people can get, but now they're just on opposite ends. Or that they held hands before, took pictures together or maybe, just maybe, once loved each other.

Her sandals have always been tearing apart. It's worth quite a bit, she paid more than she normally would have for it. But it's been falling apart. First the soles, then the straps that held everything together. So she sent it to the cobbler, but even they didn't really do a good job fixing her sandals. She was walking to the bus stop when her sandal strap snapped again. She sighed. Looking at it, she felt like throwing it out and just going barefoot. But she couldn't, and she knew it. Out of desperation, she grabs her stapler, and begins stapling the straps together. It wouldn't stick together. Before she knew it, tears were streaming down her face, for she no longer was trying to fix her shoe, but it felt like she was trying (and failing) to staple her life back together.

Funny how the smallest of things can trigger off such a train of thought.

Currently listening to : Up by Justin Bieber