There is something to be said for summer.

Flying down country roads from one appointment to another with the windows down and music that makes your insides grin, and you realize.
This is it: the inbetween times. It's what you live for. It's what you lost last summer. It's why so many people are dead inside: the inbetween is on autopilot. Because when it's off, there is everything to be discovered. It's not always welcome, but that frightening sense of self-awareness comes in handy in the down time.

I don't know what I'm saying here. Just that things make my soul dance and I wish I could do it on command.

ink :: graphite