Walking through the stores with Jackson Pollock floors, and I'm wondering what to buy and consume before all this stuff closes up. So much nonsense here, so I'll just get my ice cream and get on: grape soda float and cotton candy (because they're all out of birthday cake). But birthday cake is my favourite.
Leaving is difficult, yes, but we have to do it sometimes; when we're hearing the call of that wind and the wild; that penetrating whooshing sound that gets us in the night when we least expect it to; dozing deep in our sleep, and then suddenly, those firework dreams come out of the dark and catch and captivate us when our fortresses are less guarded and we're resultantly more impressionable. So we look in awe and say whoa.
Such beautiful dreams they are.