just drafting

drafting my thoughts. nothings final yet. a boy opening the door for a girl (i can see now from my window) is not the final move of today. neither the killing me softly from pandora. a promise i will start working out tomorrow will not be fulfilled. im just drafting my thoughts.

new energy, new underwear, new spring. not final. next year, there will be another spring, another desire to wear pretty things under, another amount of sun giving the same energy. thats whats supposably called hope. 

i dont hope thou. im the one who makes the move. who brings the change.

most of the time.