The Roof, Sunday Morning
Identity would seem to be the garment with which one covers the nakedness of the self, in which case, it is best that the garment be loose, a little like the robes of the desert, through which one's nakedness can always be felt, and, sometimes, discerned.
~James Arthur Baldwin
Lucas had been feeling lost lately, like he'd been stripped of the things that made him, well, Lucas. In an attempt to regain his sense of self, he settled on the roof with paper and pen, hoping his rambling writing would change into something good sometime soon with the help of some fresh air.
The crumpled papers next to him would indicate that hadn't happened yet.
[open like an open roof]
~James Arthur Baldwin
Lucas had been feeling lost lately, like he'd been stripped of the things that made him, well, Lucas. In an attempt to regain his sense of self, he settled on the roof with paper and pen, hoping his rambling writing would change into something good sometime soon with the help of some fresh air.
The crumpled papers next to him would indicate that hadn't happened yet.
[open like an open roof]