So many things to do. Not enough hours. Everything to be perfect. Perfect. Just perfect. I wish I could move time, or even stop time. Even for a little bit. Not enough time for anything. Especially not enough time to write this when I could do other things. And I will. Will write again after next week. Won't have time until then. But by then, I will have too much time. The irony of it all.
Thuy on Twitter
Does your bird sing?
Tell me that you've got everything you want
And your bird can sing
But you don't get me
You don't get me
You say you've seen seven wonders
And your bird is green
But you can't see me
You can't see me
You tell me that you've heard every sound there is
And your bird can swing
But you can't hear me
You can't hear me
And your bird can sing
But you don't get me
You don't get me
You say you've seen seven wonders
And your bird is green
But you can't see me
You can't see me
You tell me that you've heard every sound there is
And your bird can swing
But you can't hear me
You can't hear me
About Me
- Thuy
- Melbourne, Victoria, Australia
- This is a story, a brain dump. Private, public, random thoughts. This is me.
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