tell me your secrets..

and ask me your questions.

oh, let's go back to the start.

"listen, i'm getting to old for a lot of things. but not too old for words. a baggy pair of jeans and my boyfriends t-shirts. i'm not too old for peter pan. i'm not too old to lay in my bed all day trying to get this story out of my skin, trying to burn it through the paper and leave my thumb prints hanging from each corner. i'm not too old to read books under my covers with a flashlight, not too old to stare at the glow in the dark stars on my ceiling at night. i'm not too old to ride around with the windows down and simon and garfunkle turned up, because that's the way simon and garfunkle should be played. i'm not too old to jump on my bed and refuse to wash my hair. i'm not too old to run around bare foot with a smile stuck on my face even when times are hard. and i'm not too old to get out of here. next spring i'm taking off, to hear summer turn into fall. to listen as the leaves in a park somewhere whisper stories in my ear. to fall asleep in rose gardens, wake up when winter laughs under my sheets. to write back home on paper napkins, make lightwaves feel like experiences. to make mistakes, to write poetry in the backseat of a bus, to exchange a thousand awkward words with people i've never met, to do things i have never done on my own before, to fail miserably time over time, to mess up and never ever ever ever give up."

the scientist : coldplay