won't swallow the pill that life decides to give us
no i see your face in the middle of the storm
can't rely on myself because myself's all gone
there goes the world again i just might lose my head
i'm in your circle now
seven channels, circle.
dear charlene,
every year in september, i start to think of you more than usual. because it's your birthday, and also because we'll spend more time together daunting each other from my birthday till yours.
every year in september, i start to think of what to write about you. i've written pretty much the same things in different order for 3 years now, i think you're starting to get bored, eh.
every year i talk about how much we've been through, how everytime i cry, you're there. I'll talk about us fighting but always be able to make up in the end. I'll talk about your obession with purple which i think is so OCDish. i'll go on and on about how you're so special in my life that without you i might hyperventilate and die without knowing what friendship is.
i might even touch on why we are friends, and good friends. we shop and banter about everything in the sun. i would say that you're one of the people i'm most afraid to disappoint because you have so much light in your eyes when you look at me. heck, i might even talk about how you are so special to me, that i thank God you came into my life after the national education quiz 1999.
oh, maybe i'll say that you've seen me through my worst days and the brightest moments and how you never fail to make me feel good about myself. i would talk about how we grew up to be people we both aspire to be, and how we both became successes in our own right. sigh
see char, there's nothing much to talk about.
happy birthday, my bestest.
