(no subject)
Sometimes when the lighting is weak, I close my eyes, and imagine that I'm in another place. This other place is a Europe, a foreign fairy tale, a haven. I imagine farmers markets with plump fresh fruits and dark skinned beauties reciting poetry in unfamiliar tongues. The air is sticky sweet and I twirl throughout the streets in a flowing dress. The sun blankets my body, and all at once, I am safe.
But, who am I kidding? I don’t even like the heat. And every Thursday, we have a local farmers market. I think I have this addiction to dreams. Dreams of escape. But, I’m not really sure what I’m trying to get away from.
I’m going to Mexico in 9 days. I’m going to try to brush up on my Spanish skills, and buy a surplus amount of cheap jewelry. I’m going to have a Spanish Christmas. I don’t even want to think about the drive home. Does anyone want anything?
It's been so cold outside, so unbelievably cold.
But, who am I kidding? I don’t even like the heat. And every Thursday, we have a local farmers market. I think I have this addiction to dreams. Dreams of escape. But, I’m not really sure what I’m trying to get away from.
I’m going to Mexico in 9 days. I’m going to try to brush up on my Spanish skills, and buy a surplus amount of cheap jewelry. I’m going to have a Spanish Christmas. I don’t even want to think about the drive home. Does anyone want anything?
It's been so cold outside, so unbelievably cold.