Birthday's are upon us all.

I had a good day today. It was full of goodness
(hence, it was a good day; isn't logic so logical?)
I made brownies right off--a brand new recipe that turned out well and the dishes didn't take too long.

And then I made plans to meet people, or at least meet people in the new future.

I realized, also, that though I would love to have children, I don't think having a baby is the best thing for me right now.
I couldn't support it.
(There's your random thought of the day.)

I went into a Subway tonight to buy something to eat, and there was a gigantic line. But, unfortunately for me, I didn't have too many options, and I feel less full of grease after Subway than something like KFC (which was pretty much my only other option).

Anyways, when I was there, waiting in the long, long line a guy I went to highschool with came in through the back entrance, and as he passed me, went "What's up" in a really hurried way.

I felt like giving him a kiss, because I felt like a hug wouldn't be enough.
I wanted to take that boy in, and mother him and feed him.
He was wearing a leather jacket, that had once looked new and shiny, but was now getting worn out (not in a bad way, jackets do that, but, as if he wore it all the time). As he passed me, he smelled of cigarettes; not stale, but new.
And what did he buy at the counter?
Smokes, of course.

His face was thin; he used to be robust and if he had been skinny before his addiction started, he would have looked emaciated.
He was always tall, but now he seemed taller due to his unhealthy weight loss.
There were circles under his eyes, he looked tired.

The boy would be good looking, but he had a sickly aura that would make you want to pity him.
He would be adorable, but he lost that innocence when he took that first hit.
He would be fun to hang around with, if you weren't afraid he'd changed so much.

He would be great to get to know again,

if you weren't worried you didn't want to know.