straight from the Dust Bowl
we came in at 10:30 AZ time after having travelled for over 12 hours. in a rented care we got lost in the beautiful deserted streets of Tuscon at 11:30 on a Sunday night, then invaded the peaceful apartment of my very changed grandmother.
cactusi, dust, wide streets, palm trees, and dry dry dry air. its beautiful here, and yet there is a constant nagging in my stomach and head, either from the odd substances pumped into my body, the turbulent flights, or the nausea that overcame me when we saw our long-lost cousins.
somehow the moist air back home does not seem welcoming to me in my present state -- i feel as if i could live here forever, and yet everytime i try to soak it in, it is all i can do to stay awake. Sartre's Nausea has over come me, in my dry and caked hands that fear inanimate objects because they TOUCH me. things that are not living should not be able to feel me back. its a frightening position that feels so out of place -- out of the ordinary.
"an adventure is something out of the ordinary that is not necessarily extraordinary"
i am in want of the long kiss that was in my dream last night.
cactusi, dust, wide streets, palm trees, and dry dry dry air. its beautiful here, and yet there is a constant nagging in my stomach and head, either from the odd substances pumped into my body, the turbulent flights, or the nausea that overcame me when we saw our long-lost cousins.
somehow the moist air back home does not seem welcoming to me in my present state -- i feel as if i could live here forever, and yet everytime i try to soak it in, it is all i can do to stay awake. Sartre's Nausea has over come me, in my dry and caked hands that fear inanimate objects because they TOUCH me. things that are not living should not be able to feel me back. its a frightening position that feels so out of place -- out of the ordinary.
"an adventure is something out of the ordinary that is not necessarily extraordinary"
i am in want of the long kiss that was in my dream last night.