I hate the cold. I'd rather wake up sweaty than shivering. I'd rather walk on a cloudless, scorching summer day than in the rain.

Preferences, of course. Weakness? Maybe.

It's so cold I don't even need a fan at night and I still wake up with my skin prickling from the cool damp air. But I look at this as a chance to train myself against the cold.

I could use a sheet. Or wear a thicker shirt. But no. I resolve to wear sando and shorts in the house, regardless of the cold. I will learn to love the cold. Even if it kills me... or gives me the sniffles.

Hello blog. I miss you. It's been awhile, so let's start it off slow.

I'm watching castle over at videostic.com

Stana Katic is hot.

You say that you're afraid you're dead on the inside.

Dead people don't cry as much as you do.

You tell me you cry over me doesn't make me sympathetic,

I just feel fucking sorry for you.

For anything to be fixed, something needs to happen;

You're right-stop suffocating me.

In this house, shut tight at night
I let go, and let my dreams take flight.
So I wish I may, I wish I might,
Be granted this wish I wish tonight.

I sat and waited, Day after Day,
And little by little, I had less to say.
Somehow, I... must find a way.
But first something I must do-
Put my pieces back together.
Weave my strands around forever.

I am not just a pretty face-
A face you can replace.
In your heart you must see,
Just how much you mean to me.

The weight of forever,
A question on my lips.
The touch of nothing,
Tingles on my fingertips.

O shooting star, o falling star, o any star at all.
Please hear my whisper and answer my call.
Just grant the wish I have, the wish I wished this night.