There is just something about being in California that is easily forgotten and a shock when remembered. I can’t exactly put my finger on it, though it is akin to dreaming that you are the subject of a song. A vivid dream. I have a dream? A dream is a wish your heart makes.
“Going out to California / Gonna let the water warm my clothes”
There are a few people whom I miss very much right now. I would be happy to simply be in the presence of these people. You know me. Well, maybe you don’t: I don’t like solitude. I like solitude even less than I like cantaloupe. And, oh, do I loathe cantaloupe.
Check out this band. “The Story I heard” is my new jam.
I can’t seem to focus. Maybe one day I’ll put my money where my mouth is and write something thought out and complete. What is it that I want to do? Write? Cue skeptical looks from the jury. Nudge whoever is beside you and raise your eyebrows. I know, I know! I don’t read or write nearly enough. I am out of practice. Also, I am a bit lazy.
And since we are being honest with each other I should tell you: As I was writing the last sentence of the last paragraph I accidentally wrote “lonely” instead of “lazy”. Any of you psych majors want to weigh in? Oh, don’t bother. We all know.
I love you.
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