Give me 1000 comments in this entry. Or, well, as many as possible! They can be nice, mean, random, pictures, promotions, a song, just a hello, a poem. It can be anonymous or not, you can even have a conversation with another friend of mine... whatever you want! You, in particular, don't have to supply the whole 1000, but a tiny contribution would be nice. (A large contribution would be better!) Then let me know if you post this in your journal and I'll return the favor. ^_^

Comments
Or will these type of comments suffice?
Um, your new layout's pretty awesome.
*thumbs up*
Gracias!
I love your icon.
They could also use some Longcat.
Good luck. :D
I'll comment in yours if/when you post it.
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously)her first rose
or if your wish be to close me,i and
my life will shut very beautifully,suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility:whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens;only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain,has such small hands
--Edward Estlin Cummings
I rise at eleven, I dine about two,
I get drunk before seven, and the next thing I do,
I send for my whore, when for fear of a clap,
I spend in her hand, and I spew in her lap;
Then we quarrel and scold, till I fall fast asleep,
When the bitch growing bold, to my pocket does creep.
Then slyly she leaves me, and to revenge the affront,
At once she bereaves me of money and cunt.
If by chance then I wake, hot-headed and drunk,
What a coil do I make for the loss of my punk!
I storm and I roar, and I fall in a rage.
And missing my whore, I bugger my page.
Then crop-sick all morning I rail at my men,
And in bed I lie yawning till eleven again.
--Lord John Wilmot
All hands on deck
Don't abandon the ship
You'll never know what it could have been
All hands on deck my ship is sinking
Don't let me go, don't let me drown
A step to the right to your own rhythm
And what comes next is up to you
I need a miracle to save me from this
And I need the angels to all pray for me
I can't believe you
Another day, another worry breaks right through
And indecision bleeds me dry
She's painting pictures I'm not making for her
And she's got a vision without me in mind
I can't believe it
The long walks on Moonlight Beach
The promises you could not keep
They're so contagious, you're so contagious
For all the world we did not see
And all the smiles you gave to me
They're so contagious, so very fake...
And goodbye to you, goodbye to you
And goodbye to you, goodbye to you
I'm posting the song because I love it. Ha! How you like dem apples?
Yeah, I change my layout a lot. I'm really indecisive. XP
most comments i've had are on the "thread that wouldn't die", where Janelle and I, to this day, post comments in a neverending conversation with each other.