I realize that my posts have been somewhat full of sour grapes and moving/cultural-readjustment-angst for the past little while. So I just wanted to say that tonight was about all kinds of perfect, and it was even more perfect because none of it was planned to be perfect.
Does that make sense? Is there such a thing as spontaneous perfection?
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not as good as an ice cream cone, but better than a sharp stick in the eye. so on the scale of drug use to fairy tales, this blog is pretty healthy.
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Mackenzie
- Mackenzie
- I never live with balance. I always wake up nervous. Light comes at me sideways; I hold my breath forever. I never live with balance, though I've always liked the notion. I feel that endless hunger for energy and motion.
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