What’s to love?
Or maybe the question oughta be: what’s not to love?
I would rather take a dozen written exams than one heart-thumping oral exam. Paper is my medium, not my lips. The pen is my ally, not my tongue. It was a release, being able to stretch my otherwise dense braincells. Practice makes perfect and I have been oh so far from it. So there. Borrowed a lucky pen, that’s how I believe it to be. I did not ask to be waited for, but kinda, sorta turned out that way. Would not let me stick around, would not go on home either. What choice do I have left but to oblige. Give in, like I always do. Dinner, chitchat, leisurely walk and then got caught. Oh well, good times as always.
So what’s not to love?
Superbly Scintillating
Vicariously Vibrant
Aesthetically Astounding
You’re my only infatuation
Don’t leave me stranded
In my obsession
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