why not

August 6, 2008

Seems to me that being alive is about loving the impossibility of all or maybe the stupid improbability of it all. I’m nostalgic for the hope and heartbreak of looking for a magic answer. Those were the good ole days, man.

But I just might get my one week of summer out here.  It’s something like 95 degrees outside.  And that’s something.  That summer decided to come round just before fall creeps up on us.  Not that I’ve figured out when exactly fall happens.  Good lord, I really am an alien in this stunningly beautiful landscape.

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