"it tastes like redemption."

"facebooks messed up right now I smoked out of a lightbulb today."

good choices run in the family.

creative coffee filters

all day

I'm the shadows of trees
On the streets when you drive,
The double yellows scanning past your peripherals,
The pothole that you neglect to swerve around;
I'm the relentless thump
In your eardrum
When you crack only one window on the freeway:
I take a while to get used to.
Or the radiator in your room,
Iron and ornate
Because it's seen some nasty winters;
Maybe I'm your mattress on the floor
Unassuming with an open invitation.
I'm probably the corner cupboard in your kitchen
Because I rummaged through it once:
"How can you not have peanut butter?"
Three eggs left and no one to make you an omelette.
Your top dresser drawer, the clothes in your closet,
A half-finished slushie and a half-drunken smile.
I'm the ratty posters on the wall that
You had long before me
And ever since.
And the welcome mat at your door,
Where my sandals, sneakers, boots
All slept so patiently for hours while
I was very busy
Becoming all of these things and
More that you've yet to realize.

that bridge, omg

i left my [ipod] in san [ignacio]

He came back to the house at dark, into the yard, and there were a million stars in the sky, like tiny neon bulbs, and you could see them between the leaves of the trees, and the trees seemed to be covered with a million tiny neon bulbs, and the bus, it broke up into a sculpture of neon bulbs, millions of them massed together to make a bus, like a whole nighttime of neon dust, with every particle a neon bulb, and they all vibrated like a huge friendly neon cicada universe.

Belize, brb

sprinkles on toast

it's been a long week.

dream big

donnnn't really think Liam Gallagher is in a position to criticize any music, well, ever. I am so awake.