Work hard, Play hard

spring

The seasons are changing hastily. The temperature has ascended ten degrees, and the sun absorbs through the fabrication of my shirt like wine in bed sheets. The walks around the lake have lengthen deliberately and intentionally because there is too much to embrace and no cold, wintry feeling scampering down my spine; to much lethargy in our slow places and the heart of the concrete.

The casuals spend their night drinking cosmopolitan, screwdrivers, and chocolate berry martini while playing Texas hold' em with the screen door open like its mid-July. I can almost hear the humming of the fruit flies, the birds chirping their melodious music, and the mosquitoes flying through the air. The sounds of the ceramics and metal cores stacking on the glass table makes my heart pound like a bass drum. Martini glasses clink upon the table, and I scream out because this all bluff. All I truly wish for...all intentionally just to make a soundtrack to release there things that crafted those songs. Spring is life to my heart and music to my ears. Emit yourself.

Heat emanates from the concrete, and it indicates my predictable heart that will burn a hole right through the concrete. I walk the streets sometimes and see waxed curbs that remind me of kids who used to melt candles to the curb and rejoice until dawn. I'm daydreaming of leaning against the chain-link fences, spending nights listening to my old mix tapes and buzzing streetlamps, and photographing the essence of what orbits around me. Sitting there knowing that we are not alone and that together, we're illimitable.

Stop wallowing in your own self-pity because no one amounts to nothing. I want to amount to everything. Don't ever feel bad for me because, RIGHT NOW, I am more that I've ever been. Life, therefore, is still painting its masterpiece for me.

posted by ksmith405 @ 6:58 PM