I flash a smile and stand too, picking up my jacket, "Alright. I'll see you later then. I think I'll stay at the apartment for tonight. Got all my stuff there right now anyway."
I'm never what I like I'm double sided And I just can't hide I kind of like it When I make you cry 'Cause I'm twisted up, twisted up Inside
What is a poet? An unhappy person who hides deep anguish in his heart, but whose lips are so formed that when the sigh and cry pass through them, it sounds like lovely music. — Søren Kierkegaard, Philosopher & Theologian