Today reminds of the moment when I met my destiny and how I floated so fucking high that I got stuck up there somewhere in time, when the leaves begin to fall and the weather cools. Late nights and whispered conversations under plastic glow in the dark stars that, for an instant, reminded me of the night sky. How I wished upon those plastic stars hoping that the moment would last, and how time ended up being my worst enemy. There was something so innocent and true about those times where two souls meet. The embraces, the moldings of two bodies where one is lost in the other, not knowing which thought is whose. Have you ever had a moment where there are no thoughts in your head, you feel intoxicated and surreal. This is Magic. True Magic.
Happy 3rd Anniversary.
2 comments:
XD oh you sentimentalist, you!
Walt Whitman= Conceited American
Leaves of Grass is quite beautiful
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