Thinking bout what I miss, time I can’t retrieve. Like the first time you read a Linwood Barclay article and think ‘hey reading the newspaper can be entertaining.’
Or skipping school by yourself to eat morning glory seeds in a parking lot and think about all your mistakes (excluding that one of course). Listening to a Led Zep song repeatedly that you were sure was about the most wonderful man in the world … you know the one you barely had the courage to say ‘hi’ to. And I still think he’s great, that’s what 9 years and counting? Or lying in bed staring at the sunlight on the ceiling listening to the chirping of birds.
‘no I never got over those brown eyes; I see them everywhere’
How music echoes out basement windows to reverberate off rhubarb stalks.
The flutter of flame coloured leaves rustling around your feet in a mythical wind.
Giving up and moving on.
As though another country would fix something
Back to Praha, then Tibet, then the world.. why not? Not like I’ve got something better to do.
I dreamed I had half a stick of butter, but I don’t really. What does that mean?