spooki

What is it about Mondays? Could they be any more dull, monotonous? She was sure they could, so she wasn't gonna push her luck. They were always the same, coming out of a weekend unwillingly. She was jaded. Or felt like it at least. Sitting through trad class at 9am was enough to make anyone jaded if it wasn't for the good smelling guy in front of her. TJ. Admiring his tattoos. What was it about a guys' smell that could make your stomach have knots. Reminded her of Jake. Mm. She wondered how he was doing. He made it to Vancouver, she didn't. Perhaps it was for the best. Or something like that. She wasn't exactly sure how she felt about not b

Weekend. Weekends were fun. Spanning from Friday to those few moments before you had to wake up on Monday morning. Next weekend would be more fun (hopefully). Bid night for Fraternities meant parties at each house. But for now, it was the calm before the storm. Friday was nice. She'd met Edward Norton. Really. Ok, not really. But a boy who looked exactly like him, except 15 years younger. But his voice, mannerisms, and the way he looked. Oh wow. She was glad she got out of bed an hour early go to sit in on her friends' class, getting ideas on how to make it interesting. He was quite amusing. It made the morning. As boys often did. She felt

Its thursday, and she didn't have any classes, except for one, but a discussion is not really a class. It's like any other thursday- hot and humid. Damn the weather, she really did loathe and dispise it. She wanted it to be cold, jeans and hoodie weather, not jeans and t-shirt and still be hot weather. The a.c blew the feathers on the top of her voodoo doll as she sat at the desk, writing him a letter. Its hard to scream at someone in a letter. Tell them how much you hate them when you really don't have them at all. More dissapointment if anything hung in her words. He didn't tell her this time. He just...left. She didn't know why. Last time

Feet clad in black DCs with jeans barely letting the soles show were placed up on a table as black lacquered fingernails tapped off the end of a cigarette. An americano sat on the table near her feet, David added extra hazelnut, as always, just for her. Metal benches weren't really that comfortable to sit on, but it was in the shade, and in this city shade was quite welcome. Head leaned against the pole as eyes rolled lazily over to David who was singing, trying to get the words set down to a new song. It was a lull, that pleasent half an hour between classes where most people were in one and not causing him to want to shoot one of the sorori