i have trouble tucking in for bed when i know waking up is around six hours later and filled with tempting dreams. each day i grow older and farther away from those things i did that i love.. and that i hate.. each day i breathe in and think.. what is today? will i write pointless papers and meet pointless people? or will i procrastinate and let my body be sucked in by the world wide texting entertainment machine of pure waste? or will i go buy a used banjo and teach myself to play? will i kiss a stranger? or tell someone i crave that i think they are wonderful? i wake up every morning to fight with my alarm, because its hard to decide what the day will be.
will i sit next to beautiful people at la cour de l'amour.. taste rain on my open lips.. feel the wind write notes on my skin?
oh how i miss la cour de l'amour <3
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