As I sit here scouring the deep recesses of my mind for some
inspiration, I am thinking of you. Your
easy smile and sweet laughter are much more desirable than trying to figure out
where to begin on my midterm. Oh how I want
to pull my own hair out. Maybe we could
converse over the problems and attributes of a liberal education. Or could we discuss music? Or even better, books?! Books, books, books. I so badly want dance between the letters of a trifling dialogue. Let's compare yesterday's authors to today's. Will Orwell be freakishly accurate in his allegory 1984? Who is one of the greatest authors today?--If you say Nicholas Sparks I will kick you. Let's sing! Let's dance! Let's drive all night! Suffice to say, I would rather be talking to
you. Smiling with you. Laughing with you. Listening to you. Not writing this effing paper.
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