paperback writer
it's hard to navigate with a mind bent on wanderlust
Because when I think of this place I think of parking lots. Small town life produces an interesting lot. When everything closes at nine and there is nothing left to do but drugs and each other... you learn to make your own fun. I'll write it all down someday. Tonight I'll sleep. Maybe tomorrow I'll be a responsible, productive member of society. Probably not, but at least I tried. FIN. 5:02 a.m., Friday, Jun. 17, 2005 |
||||
flipping pages
|