Ahh rain. Or rather, counterfit rain. Because this should be snow.
Although I prefer rain.
In November. Lovely. Dark and beautiful. Rather than innocent and impressionable.
Tastes like velvet. And I mean singular. Not plural.
Love.
This post-show void makes me smell depression whenever I think about the stage or that yellow couch.
"Sardines!"
A horribly written play, yet an Merit ARTS award and $100. Oh, thank you Dysander and my trio of seductive leaves, "POET," Dylan Thomas, black eyeliner, scarves and a strange analogy about the sky being like an eighties prom dress. Anxiety consumes my doubt and hope, thanks to the optimisitc Jamie for being a fabulous camera operator. He said never to expect anything.
Oh cigarettes and Minneapolis at midnight. Overpriced popcorn and t-shirts.
Used books and scribbles in the margin. From the University of Denver. Or rather Colorado.
Comfort in melancholy and you and your eyelashes and blue sweaters. Monday.
Eloquence.
Truth.
Optimisim.
This is possible.
It is.
Although I prefer rain.
In November. Lovely. Dark and beautiful. Rather than innocent and impressionable.
Tastes like velvet. And I mean singular. Not plural.
Love.
This post-show void makes me smell depression whenever I think about the stage or that yellow couch.
"Sardines!"
A horribly written play, yet an Merit ARTS award and $100. Oh, thank you Dysander and my trio of seductive leaves, "POET," Dylan Thomas, black eyeliner, scarves and a strange analogy about the sky being like an eighties prom dress. Anxiety consumes my doubt and hope, thanks to the optimisitc Jamie for being a fabulous camera operator. He said never to expect anything.
Oh cigarettes and Minneapolis at midnight. Overpriced popcorn and t-shirts.
Used books and scribbles in the margin. From the University of Denver. Or rather Colorado.
Comfort in melancholy and you and your eyelashes and blue sweaters. Monday.
Eloquence.
Truth.
Optimisim.
This is possible.
It is.
posted by C. Kersten at 10:14 PM
