and i sort of like the nub under that left pinky, and that i have to pay extra attention to the fact that my 'a' is being typed properly. 'a's are everywhere, a lot. heh heh would always have to be heh heh, and never ha ha without it. everyone's laugh would be much more sarcastic, and the vaguely german spelling of 'lugh' to boot. srcstic lughing germns.

enough of that. i will get it fixed, then i will not remember what it was like, the feel under my pinky of this tiny green dot that resembles an upturned breast. oh, all the things we don't see that govern our lives so. how quickly our focus shifts to survive a simple 24.

enough of that as well, miss wax fantastic. i like southern yankee's 'i despise' list. it is so much more honest to do this in january than resolution-ing. i despise getting older, when there is no one to tell you you're doing just fine anymore. when you have to convince yourself you are, and of many other things. i despise thinking of it as 'getting older,' which only makes me feel it more precisely.

on my languorous drive to work, i began to think about some well spent times of yore, and to sort of feel as though they were colors of a sort, vibrant or shady, and then almost taking on a texture as well, like tattered or shiny or, oh, waffle weave, say. it makes me think i should make something out of fabric, but then also i got to thinking of a (particularly female) preoccupation with redecorating rooms, and almost wondered if my 'colors of my youth' meanderings tie into that. that if the 'colors' and 'textures' aren't happening to you (or if you aren't making them happen) as experience, you will then try to impose it physically (change of scenery/brighten a room/liven things up are commonly used phrases for the phenomenon) upon your world.

but when you are done, then what?

you might just need to rework your sentence so it does not possess one ' '.