something about this just makes me feel old.



a revolutionary haze


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may brought me so much two years in a row. three, even. finally awaking from a nonexistent hometown dream of late-night walks on well-lit streets and the sort of summer drives i only effectively participated in that one time in august before college. i had this vision of a place in the place i was from that's actually more like the street i live on now than anywhere else i've actually been, the way the sidewalks are and the way there could be youths on the porches on warmish spring nights falling asleep in each other's arms with a dream of summer and life to come. maybe of its misfortunes, the potential to get bogged down--

the potential energy of youth. blooming spring (that it sweet, not fleeting, in the words of kevin barnes) or a pessimistic colour wheel with three shades of grey.


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