(no subject)
I only write in here when I'm desperate. I figured I should probably post something that isn't whiny as hell and talking about how much I want change. Two consecutive nights were spent driving around this city with the windows down (even though it was cold as fuck) and listening to Bowie. It doesn't really sound like much, but I think I might have possibly figured some things out. Maybe. If I don't over think it.
the following was posted to another journal of mine on november twentythird.
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This is not a day for structured sentences. The past twelve hours or so have consisted of: a natural high. swinging rhythms. piping hot cups of tea. too many layers. bundling up in wooly sweaters. and scarves. hard roots gasping from the frozen mud and just a few incoherent conversations dealing with politics and god.
pictures anyone? for about a month i entered the twentyfirst century and was the owner of a proper camera. apparently that was not meant to be.
the following was posted to another journal of mine on november twentythird.
---
This is not a day for structured sentences. The past twelve hours or so have consisted of: a natural high. swinging rhythms. piping hot cups of tea. too many layers. bundling up in wooly sweaters. and scarves. hard roots gasping from the frozen mud and just a few incoherent conversations dealing with politics and god.
pictures anyone? for about a month i entered the twentyfirst century and was the owner of a proper camera. apparently that was not meant to be.