9.04.2011

Don't Cry.

This is for me. Not for you. Not for your Grandma. Not for your cute little puppy named Spot.

Me. Samantha Jean.
The girl with blonde hair, stands at 5'9", thinks about one to many things within one minute, and is slowly conquered by one zit at a time.

You may be asking: What is for you Sam?
And boy do I have an answer for you.
My tears.
You know those salty little things resembling rain drops that come out of your glistening eyes?
Ya. Those.
Sometimes these tears come rushing out of your eyes, other times they come out softly and quietly. Strangely enough. I think both are just as harsh and hurtful.
Don't get me wrong. Tears aren't always bad. (Except for the fact that it ruins your carefully applied mascara) Tears can sometimes be after a good cat yawn. Or after you and your friends laugh till you almost pee in your brand new Rock Revival designer jeans. Sometimes, you even cry because you are overwhelmed with happiness.
But none of those "happy" tears are similar to my tears.
My tears are the sad ones, that nobody wants.

Being sad sucks. And that is the only way to put it.

Sucks.

Don't freak out. My whole life isn't just tears and sadness. I'm a happy person that would be over joyed to smile. And I smile. Because I love to smile, ya know, without the braces and all.

Catch you later-
Slamma Jamma.

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