Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Remembering last summer from the word grass. Warm evenings in summer dresses, sitting in the courtyard under the dying sun. The words grass and blue skies and sundays and beer gardens on the tips of my fingers, the tip of my tongue like the heat of the air. Memories of being free spirits and happy spirits and glad to be alive spirits.

Upon trying to decide whether to grow my hair longer or get it cut shorter. Getting new jeans i've wanted forever, magazines in my bedroom. I feel fed up and sad too much.

Bye___________________________