One of Those Thought Dumps

Random notes from my phone, edition 562:

-The sunset doesn’t belong on concrete

-Alison Krauss, Oh Atlanta

-They’re joyous versus jaded. They haven’t been burnt yet. They aren’t tattered or worn down by ignorance. They are bliss at it’s finest.

-I find a sense of home in these people. These roots. From long nights. And dingy apartment living rooms. They return with ease eagerly.

-Everyday I wake up before my alarm, scared I missed it because my whole life is on someone else’s deadline following their made up guidelines.

-Arugula, goat cheese, chicken, toothpicks

-Her shoulder, freckled in vineyards and mountain ranges, kissing ocean’s sandy hairline

-When the seasons change, I will too

-Even rocky water can sing lullabies. It doesn’t complain or whine, cutting under ice, sweeping solid river banks

-This bar is my city. Ten people and the tender singing song with camp guitar and drunken voices. Stoop pictures and stoop music making with accordions. And dance parties.



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