i wish i could write words like this, flowing like a river through a cloud in a dream. pick me up and sweep me away to the neverland of music and peace. i wont mind if its a psychedelic trip with sex, sweet and just a touch of solace.
walking home i saw new graffiti on the edge of the north side of the bridge. red and purple, violent. almost.
is graffiti the urban scar? painful to observe, holding memories of past wounds? a decadent art that can drip is to a tarnished scrawl, slipping away?
home now from gymnastics and so tired... but im putting on a façade and hoping ill be allowed out tonight and then see surfy chick/guy tomorrow!!!
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