| cure_for_pain | ||
| lexda |
I vaguely remember the pleasure of waking up at your place alone, rifling through your CD's, and picking something to listen to as I assembled myself in a leisurely fashion. I'd linger as long as I could manage before feeling sheepish, not wanting to go back to my own place a few blocks away. Something felt better about being at your place than my place... A couple of years later I awoke to the same sounds amplified across the warehouse, with its barely assembled walls approximating a living space. Twice the freedom, twice the drama, and no obligations to pretend to be an adult. Now, all the freedoms, all the walls, all the drugs put away. |
130905 |