February 20, 2010
Bags of popcorn and energy leftover from escapades the night before, followed by shoreline feasts of hippopotamus and lime-flavored Coke. Uncertain gray areas cause me to turn my head, ignoring the unknown or unspoken--content with the imminent scent of passion pear, reading under a black and white blanket of native-american theme. Prematurely off to sleep I'll float, forgetting the images that play within my dreams and waking to a new acronym, a new goal, and an old situation. The sooner I fall asleep the better. I'm waiting for that new beginning, when I can say it's begun.