(no subject)
I peeled an orange this morning, only to find the center had started to rot. I scraped away the deteriorated pieces and decided to give the rest a chance to satisfy my growling stomach. It tasted like an orange, but with a strange taste mixed in. Like when white wine goes bad, and you sit there and decide if you can live with the strangeness, if that particular glass of wine, usually poured after a stressful day, is worth it. The wine is usually worth it. This orange was not.
Its an Otis Redding day. Try a Little Tenderness, if we're being specific. But we're not. Who are we? And that is not to say its a mellow, rainy-day, in need of some soul. Its a sunny, somewhat optimistic day, in need of some soul...and maybe some chai.
Its an Otis Redding day. Try a Little Tenderness, if we're being specific. But we're not. Who are we? And that is not to say its a mellow, rainy-day, in need of some soul. Its a sunny, somewhat optimistic day, in need of some soul...and maybe some chai.