uncommoncold

Vinegar in every wound. Technicolour as far as the eye can see. Sunshine heartbeats on blooming streets. Pineapple sunsets over urban dreamscapes. Broken bottles underfoot, corners pressing out in all directions, capabilities spanning past the horizon. The flicker of eyelashes and grass in our hair. Trappings of memory are being crushed, one by one, and onward- upward!- I go. This is rocket love, baby.

Somewhere in the archives of crudest instinct is recorded the truth that it is better to be endangered and free than captive and comfortable (Robbins, T).*

Could I possibly feel any more awesome than I have these past few days? It's as though my heart is made of solid, pumping gold.

i got the moon, i got the cheese
i got the whole damn nation on their knees

And now, as always, off to work I go.

*Go write your own footnotes and bibliography. I simply don't want to make the time for it, loves!