this is where we look for things
02.02.03 - 10:42
the sun is out and bright lately but the sunshine seems broken when it falls on my skin. i listen to the same songs for hours on end. i listen to the same song for hours on end. i'm tired of making time.
walking through the park with headphones on while people walk by with headphones on and people jog by with headphones on. and sunglasses. it's like we want it all to ourselves, the green of it, the smell of fresh-cut grass, the smooth white calla lilies, the bare branches of the rosebushes, waiting for summer. we're all waiting. it's like everything is ok as long as they can't see your eyes and you can't hear what they're saying. we're all traveling in our own tiny bubbles, singing along silently to our own tiny songs.
old people get cold easily. old people and the very, very young. they wear layers and layers underneath fluffy down coats, hoods on, strings tied tight under their chins. the babies are tied up like little packages. sometimes tiny pink hands peek out of the bundles. tiny pink faces. some of them wear fluffy little hats and all you can see is a tiny pink nose. we walk by in shorts and tank tops, jackets tied around our waists. we're not so young and not so old and the blood moves too swiftly in our veins for us to feel the slight chill in the air.
