While I’m writing this, I’m singing the words in my head, so if you could do the same while reading this, that would probably be a good idea. Just this sentence though. Stop singing…..NOW.
I came home today from college to visit my boyfriend Tyler. We went to Belle Isle in Richmond for the day, laid out on some rocks, acquired a touch of sun burn, and stuck our feet in the freezing water of the James River. It’s actually a really beautiful place. It was so crowded today. There were literally people everywhere, including girls wearing very skimpy bathing suits. Cuuuuuuteeeeeeeeeeee.
I was gonna post a picture of myself, but then I thought, mmmmmm better not.
I had pizza tonight. CRAZY RIGHT?
I’m also extremely tired, and I had a headache but it went away. Jesus, I don’t know what I’m blabbing about. This is the most boring post I’ve ever written.
I’ll leave you with this:
What makes us “who we are?” Does this question carry any weight at all? Why does it matter “who we are?” I was thinking last night that no one can tell us who we are, or what we are more likely or unlikely to do. What I want to do at the time, I will do. I may be a super shy person, but sometimes I want to go party, dance, and drink with random strangers. So how can we know who we are then? I have come to the conclusion that there is no “who we are”, but instead, we are what we do.
sincerelystephanie.org 