Recently, a friend of mine wrote a blog post entitled "map of my heart." It was a lovely, profound, insightful, poetic piece of loveliness.
So, naturally, it inspired me.
Except, I'm not all fancy and poetic...
Map of A-Money's Heart
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Look in my heart, and you'll find some stuff about me.
I can't really tell you what you'll see
My heart's full of questions
Questions like "why am I here...
...on my computer...
...when I should be reading A Tale of Two Cities..."
My heart's full of desires
and to get more sleep
and to go skiing and to go skiing and to go skiing
and to be famous for my super-white-girl rapping skills
and for some guy from a renowned organization who probably wears a suit
and might be balding and has glasses to randomly say
"Hey, you won a million bucks,
because you have a really cool trucker hat".
My heart's full of memories
like when I peed my pants in 2nd grade
and when I crashed into a dumpster on my bike
and when I accidentally did a back flip off a swing
and when Abbert and I mixed up a bunch o' gross nasties together
and convinced my brother and his friends it was a delicious smoothie.
My heart's full of feelings
like "whoah, that was exciting"
and "whoah, that was cool"
and "whoah, that makes me mad"
and "whoah, that's hilarious"
and "whoah, I love this person"
and "whoah, I'm tired"
And, my heart's full of songs
that I make up on the spot
about brownies, or sometimes steak
or about school, or people
but usually about life in general.
My heart is also a vital organ that pumps blood to the other organs in my body.
This is where I make my dramatic escape. Pretend you didn't see it coming.