December 31st, 2005


Random thoughts on has when washing their hair...

My first crush on a girl was when I was sixteen. Her name was Ava Pickett and she was in my grade ten class. She was awesome. I don't think I even realised it was a crush at first. I just remember thinking she was so cool. She listened to interesting music- she introduced me to The Doors- and talked about interesting things. She was so much... deeper than all the vapid blondes I was used to dealing with. Ava had a beautiful gypsy look to her, dark hair, dark eyes, tanned skin. And the best figure. She never seemed to be aiming for stick thin like the other girls. Everything about her was unique. Her clothes, her attitude, her looks, her voice. Everything about her was so out of place in the middle of Snoresville, Tasmania.

I can remember lying out on her bed near the seaside with her earphones on my head, Jim Morrison's voice in my ears, and Ava sitting next to me and smiling.

God, I had it for her so bad. And now I wonder where she is. But maybe I don't want to know. Who she is now might ruin my idea of who she was then.
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