seems that loneliness has got the best of me. is it ok to hurt? is it ok to believe again? this picture reminds me when i was so disappointed that i prayed so long and so hard for my autograph to come and finally, one gloomy day my freshman year of college...my mom said the letter came back. my autograph came after like...3 years? or something ridiculous, but it was one of the greatest moments of my life, next to meeting Rivers Cuomo and eating with him at Shakey's. that was something that made me want to pinch myself because there was no way that it was real. what happened to that hopeful little girl inside of me? why did she die? or does it just come with age?
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