(no subject)
I've been thinking about Greg a lot lately. If I throw my elbow over my eyes and concentrate, I can hear the first few notes of We Looked Like Giants hanging in the air around us. I can feel the stiff leather of his car's interior beneath my fingertips and the last dying rays of September sunlight burn into my eyelids. I can hear his voice and see his hands. The smell of tobacco and gin comes back so strongly my head swims. If I focus, my heart skips and I become young and unsure. I've been thinking about it a lot. I'm not sure why.
I'm never gonna get through all this bleedin' homework. Shoot me.
I'm sitting in Teren's room, okay? She listens to a lot of country. Don't judge me.
I'm never gonna get through all this bleedin' homework. Shoot me.
I'm sitting in Teren's room, okay? She listens to a lot of country. Don't judge me.