(all i'll ever need to think about is, how many insects will feed on me today)

i’d like to lie on that secret concrete road near the tunnel near the motorway, with you, and watch the clouds go by and never have to shiver with cold and hope the rain doesn’t come and all i’d hear was your breath in my ear and the hum of the cars rush by (but there’s no rush).

i’d like to sit on that ledge (oh you know that ledge, we’ve inched around and around, wondering if we should get closer) and watch the people go by and the clouds go by and the birds go by and the ocean go by (and stay and sink and float and crash).

i’d like to lie in the middle of the pavement, and have the sun almost burn my flesh and feel it warm every pore of my skin (my hand will be especially warm).

i’d like to be carefree, and not have to worry about anything other than now. i’d like to gaze amongst the stars and sleep on the grass and it would be warmwarmwarm.

i’d like to watch those sunrises and sunsets NOT alone and (with my own voice) i can tell you how amazing it is and beautiful it is and fantasticwonderfulextraodinary it is (‘it’ has two meanings).

i’d like to stop time through the lens and keep them forever and always in the most awkward beautiful frames.

i’d like to go somewhere, anywhere, nowhere because i want to explore.

i’d like to sleep and sleep and sleep (alonealonenotalone).

“oh those summer days are long gone, those summer days are far away.” whistles julie every morning, every lunch. “but keep the icy needles that pierce your cheeks, and gulp the wind that tangles your hair. the cold is lonely, so love it (under layers and layers and layers) and every second will be magical.”

not that it isn’t already.