wendy is crushin on joe trohman.
swappin gross-out stories and feeding giraffes.
there is one crazy dude. but in the good way.
i kindof just like listening to him talk.

clocks-coldplay.
that song will always feel like home to me.
whatever home is i mean.
home isnt an idea or a place- but rather the feeling attached to a place.
when you find home, you know it. you just know.
the flyaway was amazing. i felt a little weird, out of my skin kindof. i could be anyone i wanted but i could only be tat person when my dad wasn't around.
i got to be a cooler me. funnier. more spontaneous.
"i'm pete wentz..."
"it's an emo giraffe!"
saying the "God" in "Goddamn arms race".
and to think. i almost grabbed wentz' hand in the downpour of confetti.
so, so close. but he did smile at me. it looked like a genuine smile too.
i think he really lives off us. we are the cure to growing older.
and so are they, but they don't know it. the boys i mean.
they are the only constant variable in this crazy equation.
x = meaning of life. find x.