denied

Wow. Wowwwwww. What a life.
Denial is a funny thing. We deny realities almost everyday, or at least I do. Like now, for example- I'm denying the fact that my room isn't spotless, that I need to get up and go do a two hour workout, that it's finals week, and that life isn't filled with complications. Jus sayin.
BUT! I move home in six days. SIX. DAYS. That's insane. I'll be home for three months, loving life and doing what I'm best at--being in a theatre, dancing, loving, encouraging, helping, thriving, and LIVING. Waking up at 7 a.m. every day and going to a stupid spanish class is NOT living. Waking up at 7 a.m, making breakfast with my mom, driving in the sun and jamming out with my baby sis, running around the Rep all day, dashing to a jazz class, and going out with my best girls for a night of mayhem....THAT is living. And that's my summer. That would actually be a typical day. Plus riverfest, lake weekends, laying out, starbucks runs, shopping at the farmers market, running in the sprinklers late at night, getting home wayy too late, seeing old friends, sleepovers with Bridge, family dinners, driving with the windows down, ARKANSAS SUMMERS. What a life :)
Today, however, is a different story. Studystudystudy. SIGH.

Six days, three finals, one big move day,
K

P.S. also.....

You've got the best of both worlds. You're the kind of girl who can take down a man, And lift him back up again. You are strong but you're needy, Humble but you're greedy And based on your body language, And shoddy cursive I've been reading. Your style is quite selective, though your mind is rather reckless. Well I guess it just suggests that this is just what happiness is. Hey, what a beautiful mess this is...It's like picking up trash in dresses. Well it kind of hurts when the kind of words you write Kind of turn themselves into knives. And don't mind my nerve you could call it fiction, But I like being submerged in your contradictions dear....'Cause here we are, here we are. Although you were biased I love your advice. Your comebacks they're quick, And probably have to do with your insecurities. There's no shame in being crazy, Depending on how you take these words I'm paraphrasing, this relationship we're staging. And what a beautiful mess, yes it is. It's like picking up trash in dresses. Well it kind of hurts when the kind of words you say Kind of turn themselves into blades. And the kind and courteous is a life I've heard, But it's nice to say that we played in the dirt. Cause here, here we are, Here we are. Here we are....We're still here. What a beautiful mess, this is. It's like taking a guess when the only answer is "Yes." Through timeless words and priceless pictures We'll fly like birds not of this earth. And tides they turn and hearts disfigure, But that's no concern when we're wounded together. And we tore our dresses and stained our shirts But its nice today. Oh the way it was so worth it.