The musings, laughter, anguish, and tears of a Stickman living the life drawn for him by the Artist. "I must learn to serve the Artist first, His pen directs my path. He breathes life into these worn-out sticks, And stickmen will see at last."

About Me

Poor. Student. Firefighter. EMT. Kind. Optimistic. Shy. Dreamer. Fool. Happy.

4.20.2005

wish you were here

A magnificent day. Absolutely, unbelievably postcard-perfect. The sky sporting a rich blue with just the right amount of marshmallow-white to keep things interesting. On the way back from skipping math, I looked up and got lost in the sky, that breath of wind pushing against my freckles...I was speechless against the sheer beauty. So I closed my eyes for a moment -- and almost got hit by a car. :)

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