Miss-Lovel

I AM EIGHTEEN. WATCH OUT.

I had a fairly strange dream last night. It began with the setting of an airport, and I was with a friend that looked like it was from Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends. All I can remember was that it was red and had four legs. I left the airport, flying with a priest or some form of religious man, and I remember being in this dark and warm house, everything wood. Now, here it gets a bit tricky. While I knew I was at the house, it became a vague awareness, my soul being transferred to my friend, who I became while maintaining a sense of what the REAL me was doing. I(as the 'friend' ) sat in a wooden chair while waiting in line, eavesdrop

Dear Missy: I don't really know how to tell you this, but our affair is over. I think I realized it when your dog ran amok outside of Chicago and I saw you pull the clothes off my best friend. I'm sure you're scarred enough to understand how awful I've felt. I'm returning your love letters to you, but I'll keep your mom as a memory. You should also know that I was interviewed in the Times about  our friendship. In Pain, Rachelle Lol. This was... Kinda fun. So I have to tag people? D: OKAY, WELL... ~hyperdreams (https://www.deviantart.com/hyperdreams) :iconshatteredlike: :iconbann: :iconlady-scarecrow: Learn how here: http://amuris.deviantart.com/journal/20567546/