Roses, tulips, babies breath. their scents wafted all over town today. cherry blossoms, 3 giggles, fuck marry kill. all equally as soft and equally as beautiful. i'll always want it to be three giggle season.
it seems i always have too little time. with you. where we are. its never enough. I'm always wanting more. i'll always yearn for it back, always never wanting it to end.
you are my ladies, my writers, my loveable neurotics. we are never really sure what's happening except for what's for dinner that night. a plan for arbitrary things.
arbitrary things are all the simple things i want. i hoard knick snacks, i gather friends, i observe tree trunks. all i love is impractical and completely beautiful. i stand by my grad quote. its the simple stuff.
we're forever trading roles of mother, father, child. we're each a little of all. people get sad to leave their friends, but part of me gets happy because i know i have someone somewhere that I'm not.
i run down the hill but everytime i do i imagine in my brain rolling down the whole thing. or perhaps falling is the right word. one mistep - one extra flap of a flip flop and I'm a goner.
i smoke my joint overlooking an almost 300 degree lookout. the view of the water and mountains is incredible. all my really good friends are writers. all being 3. of the really good ones. i need them around to keep my brain turning. without them I'm like a little kid on a swing with not enough gusteau. they spin me and spin me so as to keep me going. keep me moving and flowing like the world on its axis.
my brain is muddled like a drink. instead of mint leaves there's a hint of the disturbed. the terrified. you can probably see it in my eyes if you look long and close enough. i was prepared to get fucked up but i was never prepared to go on a quest.
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