Nobody Felt Sad As Long As We

There Was A Time When These Weren't Memories.

I Walked Over To The Hill Where We Used To Go And Sled. There Were A Lot Of Little Kids There. I Watched Them Flying. Doing Jumps And Having Races. And I Thought That All Those Little Kids Are Going To Grow Up Someday. And All Of Those Little Kids Are Going To Do The Things That We Do. And They Will All Kiss Someone Someday. But For Now, Sledding Is Enough. I Think It Would Be Great If Sledding Were Always Enough, But It Isn't.

Something Really Is Wrong With Me. And I Don't Know What It Is.

How About Your Favorite Book?" "this Side Of Paradise By From. Scott Fitzgerald." "why?" "because It Was The Last One I Read." This Made Them Laugh Because They Knew I Meant It Honest, Not Show-off. Then They Told Me Their Favorites, And We Sat Quiet.

It’s Much Easier Not To Know Things Sometimes.