Lovers to friends.
Why do all good things come to an end?
~ Nelly Furtado
On a separate note, while eating dinner with a few good friends on Saturday night, I realized how different I am from other brown people, no wait, from ALL other brown people. They don't understand my humour. They don't think the way I do. And they don't agree with most of the stuff I do, no wait, most of the stuff I WANT to do. They did not believe that I actually know someone, and someone that I actually like, who actually lives in a trailer.
So I came to the conclusion that I was born and/or raised in the wrong place.
Alas.
posted by S @ 12:16 PM
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