all i remember (all i want to remember) is how the clouds looked and how the air tasted and how fast the sky was spinning (faster than 75 miles per hour) after we stopped going 75 miles per hour. that, and, the dusty bookstore we love so much, and the kite-flying that took place in front of the big fort and rolling down the hill by myself because courtney is the lamest, and how it felt to not care for five days.
if going to school and going to sleep and going to eat here is an inhalation, being there was one long exhalation. (i only exhale once every two months or so. remind me to stop holding my breath) the school with five dark rooms and an entire building of orchestra rooms is mine. mine. i'll spend the next chapter of my life there with colder weather in november and this time really knowing no one. it's almost sure. i'm almost sure.
and, hey, how about this weather? all you need is love, love. love is all you need. and: attention, attention. nicolas cage/ryan is right because all of you are just scenery.