01-24-2011, 09:23 PM
Here is the bandwagon. Here is me. This is me hopping in the bandwagon. The bandwagon has now been hijacked.
I love CotH. I love it so much my heart skips a beat every time I come online. I view my CotH like I view my custard, soft, sweet, tasty and shape-changing. No matter how much the shape may seem to change, it is still custard to me. That soft, gooey, perfectly textured, tasty substance. Being away from it too long would induce withdrawal symptoms which may or may not involve constantly thinking about it, missing it, just as I miss the music.
If CotH was a woman, I'd make it breakfast every morning, show up at its doorstep and wish it a good day. I'd take it on walks along the beach while watching the setting sun until our feet can take no more and we collapse onto the sand in a mound of sweet, soft words. Then I would think, we'd be a tough act to follow. Everyone would want a piece of us, mostly CotH, but I would stay with her the entire time, safe in her embrace.
If CotH was the wind, I'd be following it everywhere it goes. Whether it went thataway or maybe even thataway. Until the end of the world I'd be there for it and then I would pray for its safety. Whether it crosses the seas or maybe even across the wide open spaces of America. I would do anything for CotH. Such a lovely, perfect world. Any kinks found within it are overcome by the passion of the Roleplayers it houses.
CotH is my sweetheart It is my burning desire. It is my blazing admiration. It is my flaring infatuation. It is reduced to ashes only to be reborn as my devotion. Together, we will show people that everything is a part of CotH, a part of us, a part of everyone. No matter what happens, CotH is there for me. Thank you CotH, you are my everything. I love you.
(Overly dramatised? Definitely. But, none the less, it's true, I actually really do like CotH.)
This is me opening my mind about what I think about CotH.
I love CotH. I love it so much my heart skips a beat every time I come online. I view my CotH like I view my custard, soft, sweet, tasty and shape-changing. No matter how much the shape may seem to change, it is still custard to me. That soft, gooey, perfectly textured, tasty substance. Being away from it too long would induce withdrawal symptoms which may or may not involve constantly thinking about it, missing it, just as I miss the music.
If CotH was a woman, I'd make it breakfast every morning, show up at its doorstep and wish it a good day. I'd take it on walks along the beach while watching the setting sun until our feet can take no more and we collapse onto the sand in a mound of sweet, soft words. Then I would think, we'd be a tough act to follow. Everyone would want a piece of us, mostly CotH, but I would stay with her the entire time, safe in her embrace.
If CotH was the wind, I'd be following it everywhere it goes. Whether it went thataway or maybe even thataway. Until the end of the world I'd be there for it and then I would pray for its safety. Whether it crosses the seas or maybe even across the wide open spaces of America. I would do anything for CotH. Such a lovely, perfect world. Any kinks found within it are overcome by the passion of the Roleplayers it houses.
CotH is my sweetheart It is my burning desire. It is my blazing admiration. It is my flaring infatuation. It is reduced to ashes only to be reborn as my devotion. Together, we will show people that everything is a part of CotH, a part of us, a part of everyone. No matter what happens, CotH is there for me. Thank you CotH, you are my everything. I love you.
(Overly dramatised? Definitely. But, none the less, it's true, I actually really do like CotH.)