Giant nails thick as my finger and longer than my hand. Here is to hoping our paths will cross this weekend! You were carrying perhaps a mandolin case? I'm sure it will be very easy to find you again as there were only other people who looked exactly like you in the bar that night.
I think our past has benefited our growth, mere reflection of a flower wanting to blossom, Removing unnecessary weeds and collected debris, which have disguised us In order to see today our budding beauty, standing firm on earthly ground, with our love on this day. Given the impulsive, random, spelling-challenged world of the Internet, some of the posts are terrible, obscure, profane, or, on occasion, obscene. If you see this, please let me know how the past week of your life turned out.
Some nights I settle on the couch by the windows and ignore the creeping ocean of green around me. Just a couple of hours ago. I think about what this home will look like next week, next month, next year… Beauty will come, beauty is here now, today.
Even, say, at the Seward Meridian Tesoro in Wasilla: Don't surf this listing at work. You went to Viet Nam with a gunny named Jefferson. Just a couple of hours ago.
Almost literally took my breath away. Mixed in with ads for all the things being bought and sold --the washing machines and two-bedroom apartments and gently-used baby clothes --Missed Connections is its own little marketplace, trading on longing, flirtation, loneliness and hope. I forgot my earbuds so instead of sleeping, I had to listen as you described every single detail of your life in Alaska to your seatmate, beginning with your drive up the Al-Can in in a Winebago and up to and including the precise nature and duration of this work trip you were on. Sometimes I like to stand in front of the window closest to the front door and stare outside at the shades of green.
Here is to hoping our paths will cross this weekend! My yard is full of nails. Mixed in with ads for all the things being bought and sold --the washing machines and two-bedroom apartments and gently-used baby clothes --Missed Connections is its own little marketplace, trading on longing, flirtation, loneliness and hope. Even, say, at the Seward Meridian Tesoro in Wasilla:
Posted by: Vushicage | on October 2, 2012
Print article Here's my latest guilty pleasure: The nails remind me of Jesus crucified on the cross and I wonder why there are so many of them buried in the dirt. You were wearing an orange construction vest and joked with me about having way too many donuts for one person at the self checkouts.
Also, I need to know more of your views on the state's current fiscal crisis. You were that person for me this morning, whoever you are, and it put a smile on my face all the way to work. Just a couple of hours ago.
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