(no subject)
pop, the tire went as i rode to my first test. the imperemable bubble of my consciousness remained, serene. pop went the frame (a literal popping noise) as i rode across the st anthony main. pop pop pop goes that bubble. all this popping makes me want to go. i want to flee to valencia and study the bronze age, exploring caves looking for paleolithic paintings and hearts with initials in them, steadfast in displaying that moment when love existed, ephemeral into eternal. staying is nice though, for now, the only thing in existence. shrinking pupils in the morning sun gives a heart wings.
i will personally come home on september first, two-thousand and eight, from whereever in the world i am, with a molotov cocktail in hand to defend minnesota. no, i dont care.