It is yet another Sunday without sun. Clouds covering my town. Clothes covering my floor. Every Sunday is driven by coffee and music. I guess every day is. I need some drive to get off the computer and into my reading. It is so hard when Sam Beam is singing sweet southern stories into my room.

I keep meeting people. More and more and more people. I didn’t know I would have so many encounters by the time I was twenty.

I need to write. And decorate my room.

Everything is great. Great. Please don’t mess it up.

 

currently listening to: Sodom South Georgia by Iron & Wine

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