remain bound together...

so, when i was driving home this afternoon, listening to the descendents, my nose caught wind of the best smell known to me.. wet asphault (but not just wet asphault, that first rain after summer wet asphault).

promptly, i pulled over, put my coat on, got out of the car, and walked up and down the street, nostrils flared.

enjoyment, bliss, a memory of time before thought.

me and my sister and my dad flying kites at my old elementary school.
easter, christmas. a million or two holidays.
the tar pits that one time when i somehow got tar on my hands.

'why cant it always be like this' i thought... and wept...


-el

but you write such pretty words....

so, yes, yes... i hear this and scream...
i apologize...

im sorry i seemingly write about one thing, the fuck...
but damnit, it...

fuck that, i wont be her fucking silver medal, homie dont play that shit... yo...

im not so sure, but bright eyes may in fact, kick some mighty ass...

anyway, i thought i was in the mood to write more, but i suppose im not, lets see if alcohol can help...

ill be back


-el