(no subject)
As I sit here-- wise, dazzled, and thirsty for the blood of Jamaicans-- my nose rattles with dew from the rain and my eyes are full of rainy beads. My computer is making a terrible noise like it's calculating something important.
It's coming around, that gleeful, rambunctious time: the moment during life's merry-go-round ride when you hold on tight with hair blowing and eyes wide, when pass you the window and see your son as a fully grown man. That time of the year when we're reminded how smiles look like fresh, fully grown corn and the Sun goes hidden to play his game by the time Old Pops gets home from work. Ah, these times make my chest grow--- and give me a little refund for every day I couldn't bear to get out of bed or sit in traffic.
It's coming around, that gleeful, rambunctious time: the moment during life's merry-go-round ride when you hold on tight with hair blowing and eyes wide, when pass you the window and see your son as a fully grown man. That time of the year when we're reminded how smiles look like fresh, fully grown corn and the Sun goes hidden to play his game by the time Old Pops gets home from work. Ah, these times make my chest grow--- and give me a little refund for every day I couldn't bear to get out of bed or sit in traffic.