Walking out on the terrace..
“ I never much liked the yellow pack of American Spirits,” I think to myself as I light one of the same cigarettes I was just critiquing in my head. It seemed you were always half smoking them, like they were never fully lit..
The conversation drags on, someone is very adamant on their position during the conversation and it is growing bothersome.
It’s a nice cool night in this tropical oasis. Although comparative perspectives are being thrown around, and an all around dialogue that is enticing in nature is about to reach its pinnacle. I can not help but continue to play mental ping pong with myself. Was I right or was I wrong? Was I right to be here? Or was this the worst decision I had made yet?
“If you can handle your own bullshit, you can probably handle anything else life is going to throw at you. Let me just tell you something. The movies ain’t supposed to be real life, books ain’t either. That is why you put that shit in art forms. Stop living in the same bubble your trying to pop....