tinged

11.24.01back& forth
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so there, right now, the sun is setting over the mountains. a storm has just gone through, and the horizon is a blur of grey tinged with blue. the potted tiles outside are sprinkled with the rain and the hammocks are wet. they smell like rain. i really like the smell of rain.

i really miss panama.... i wish i could tell you how much...

and i am inside with the windows open under the covers and the sheets that have big stripes and it is perfect. perfect.

and diving in the waves, the storm line, the sky, the way i can run down the hill and spill down the steps and the smell of the mango trees...

but instead.. i am sitting here in front of my computer, watching bad entertainment {well, not so bad, since i am entertained}, procrastinating writing my english essays, thinking how forced this all sounds.

yesterday i wrote a whole bunch about how i was so fucking CONTENT with who i am, what i look like, how i think.... and since my dad closed all the windows and you or i will never read that piece of work again; it is all lost to a world where photo developers pirate hope. but that is another story to be told, another boundless mystique to be saved in word and filed carefully into my sophmore year folder.

isn't life more than that?


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