

refrigerators are like monkeys, they only work when running.
my mind is running on a full tank, with great mileage.
chris is right, maybe i'm finally coming to the realization that running sucks.
if you're whisky tastes like the bottom of an oak leaf it probably means it has been running on top of a cantelope.
think twice, strike thrice.
if thoreau wrote a book titled running this is what it would be.
after running on fumes for a couple months my tank is finally empty.
as for now, snow is the love of my life.
finally, running season is here.
round ten is going to be a knockout.
I pick you.
Ballin' too hard.
Then how come when I look in the mirror there's a mill in perfectly good running order?
the wickedness of this terrain.
the prestigious, the notorious, the ritzy, above it all i stand on the blue sky bassin, running through trees and off of cliffs, if i haven't somewhere to go then i'm not lost, i'll lay back in this tenderness, and bitterness could be the one right on my side, but it's only sugar.
cough, shiver, brr.
body dripping with sweat, dripping on notes, beads of it running down my body. hardly able to move, echos in my mind, very very heavy, barely able to walk.
if you're listening sour and sweets...
i will be laying in bed soon. my blanket will be (y)our love. my mind will be full of beautiful thoughts of you. my arms will be full with stitch, kit-kat-lady-girl, and mistletoe. i will kiss my favorite picture of you. i will think of you long into the night, with passion, longing, and love. i'll think of you whispering in my ear. i'll think of running fingers through your hair. my whispers tracing through your ears. my eyes locked on your beauty. it's gripping. our bodies close, not even air can leak through. warm. cozy. smiles written across our faces. thinking there you are so pure and sweet. tender and strong. adoring and caring. striking in your expressions. holding you in my arms tonight. holding you in my heart tonight. loving you in my arms tonight. loving you in my heart tonight. xo.