In the middle of realizing something bigger than myself, flying higher than a kite, falling deeper than saliva drunk and founding myself in a secret garden, on the roof looking over the sleeping Fulton @ 4am in the morning. Drinking burning Absinthe shots in the deepest of Killabrews and listening to crazy talk of curly drunkenness telling me something about what I am supposed to feel...
Fuck this crap. I don't have to go along with expectations of others. My own "mistakes" are mine and they are just a part of the Plan. One way or another I am on the road. Maybe it is a path, maybe a big highway - it is a road. My road.
Feeling lonely by the morning sunrise I fall asleep in the sweet cuddling of black sheets and dream of explosive weed, microwave pianos and burn in the fire that I started myself. My mind is leaving me step by step, but it keeps coming back to remind me that all this is simply temporary. A butterfly is to wave its wings and the world will change once more. It may take a day or a year - I am good at waiting.
No Spain this spring... Fuck exchange arrangements.
1 comments:
good u r back.
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