(no subject)
I'm smelling my hand and for some reason it's making me think of last years camp in California. I'm thinking of the beach and hanging out with everyone. I can't wait for camp this year. I can't wait to be home. No one can ever replace the Shawn's, Grant's, Lindsay's, Katelyn's and every other person that I hold dear back home. I love being taken back to good memories. Whether it be by smelling the cologne in my hand or a song or something else. I love listening to the Mars Volta because I remember driving home from Ashleys house late at night after watching a movie or doing something crazy. Or listening to Imogen Heap and The Album Leaf songs and thinking about the better times I had in Texas (The parts not ruined by Matt.) Or how when it rains hard I think about when I went out in the pouring rain with Joy and Jenny and Grant and just played in it.
Sometimes I wonder. How did I get here? And I'm still singing these songs and writing these words. I'm still trucking along. But where did the pizzazz go? How come these words don't shine and these times don't feel like mine?
Sometimes I wonder. How did I get here? And I'm still singing these songs and writing these words. I'm still trucking along. But where did the pizzazz go? How come these words don't shine and these times don't feel like mine?