Mi vida loca

[mystwillow]

She had wandered, without rule or guidance, into a moral wilderness. Her intellect and heart had their home, as it were, in desert places, where she roamed as freely as the wild Indian in his woods. The scarlet letter was her passport into regions where other women dared not tread. Shame, Despair, Solitude! These had been her teachers - stern and wild ones - and they had made her strong, but taught her much amiss.

~Nathaniel Hawthorne

Summer has come and passed
The innocent can never last
Wake me up when September ends.

~Green Day