At a certain point in our lives we become complacent. We become stagnant, and we make a decision to float along the river of life. Not paddling anymore, just riding the current.

Basically, I have scattered thoughts, and I find that in order to share those thoughts via a blog like this one, I need to spend time collecting those thoughts and putting them in sentence form. The news from my bed.

While the real Wilsonworld lies in waiting, a place for me to exist, while in exile. Tuesday, January 24, 2012. Stepping in the time machine. To beat the winter blahs, my place of employment is encouraging themed dress up days. For myself, there was no question. it had to be the Eighties. 1 What was your hair like? 5 What w.

The semester is beginning to wrap up. I have two take-home exams and one exam to sit. Life, is pretty good.

My Franklin Cannot Tie His Shoes. Yes, it has been a while. All the sisters are gone and it has never been this quiet in this house. Frankie smells like like a goat. Roots have grown out from the blonde streaks in my hair. Got new fake converse, brilliant blue, with the same neon laces, of course. Asked for a cell-phone again.

Talk to you all soon 3. 8221; which in turn is bad for me, because i would.