Waiting for sedation to disconnect my head
I lie still on the grass, tucked under the sturdy arms of the tree, wanting to take everything in at once. But it is just too overwhelming. The leaves are so rich and vivid, like fresh paints melting together. And the temperature is perfect, chilly enough that you feel comfortable with or without a sweatshirt. It's the kind of day that Elliott Smith would make a soundtrack for. As the hesitant sun sinks down under the silhouettes of the buildings, you realize that the only thing you want is to be part of that beauty.