I'm still sleeping. I must be still dreaming. I've got the Spree blaring on the computer, a pool outside my temporary back door, hours to be spent in the Four Seasons spa just around the corner, the hottest most coolest guy ever to maybe come over within the next few days, a new job to start Monday, extra shifts to pick up at my recent job, coffee going luke-warm. "On my way" and "hey it's the sun and it makes me shine".
Too bad i've still got rent to pay for a place I can't sleep or spend ten minuets in.
Damn heat. Beautiful sun.
And oh I want to write about you. Just how happy you make me.
And to shave my legs everyday. "Practice".
And this sound in my ears makes me want to dance or sing or smile or all three at the same time. But i'll keep it to sitting and closing my eyes, taking it all in, such ambience!!!
I'm going to go on a bike ride before it's too hot, which it already is, but i'm going to pretend it's not and send myself on a suicide mission.
Writing is for the birds. Plum wine is for us.