tough LUCK...
I feel like flying. I feel like running harder, and faster than I've ever ran. My heart slows down with every breath but at every sight my concentration juxtapose the idea of the pace. This cold air feels so good on the surface of my skin and past my breath, oh I obviously can't think past the horizon. I have nothing in my pocket, or even the crevasses of even the depth of my purse. No currency can exchange this breath, this pain after the helpless smile, being swept, as everything fades away as I'm melting into you. Isn't this how it's suppose to be? Damn this feels good, so good. Damn life couldn't get any better. Life is g o o d.