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I love Thursdays, because my weekend starts. I finish classes early, stock up shopping, and its a lazy day of smoking and reading. I have been overanalyzing jjust about everything lately and the only thing keeping me sane is my ipod. I can close my eyes and listening to certain song will bring me back to a specific time and place and moment that
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i'm laying in bed in my room freshman year of college. it's getting so late the sky has started to illuminate itself. the rolling stones are playing on my record player. my notebook is next to me and my pen sits in my right hand. as i reach over to go back again to wild horses (i play it over and over again this night because it just feels right--like it's combined with the molecules of blood pumping in and out of my heart and through my body...systolic...diastolic...). my eye catches something (nothing) out my window and i lean back to look. the garage across the street with the chipped-greenish-painted-over windows is lit from the inside. it is beautiful the way the light emerges in cracked lines from where time has done what it always does and has worn away at someone's attempt to block inside from out. wind blows in through the half-open window and i shiver. goosebumps.
"wild horses couldn't drag me away..." no, mick, they couldn't.
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possibly one of the most articulate descriptions of me, that night, all of it, all together. near the edge... but not dangerous. wonderful.
when we're back in new york city, we are going back to that spot.
... and it was so true.
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