For real.

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Aren't we all living for that moment of "alive," when our voices sound like change jangling in a purse, the night is heavy with a gold glow like magic, when we clumsily crawl out onto the roof to smoke together, forget our problems for awhile. And maybe some rum warm in your stomach and you sing songs about how good things are. Dance into bed as ( Read more... )

Outside, it smells like rain. I've only noticed the smell in Worcester, and it's not a pleasant one. It's like the when you wake up in the morning and you've sweated out a fever ( Read more... )

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