I can’t write anything in this weather. All I want is rain, I want the Mother of All Rains, just for a while at least. It can be sunny again this weekend.
You have this pressure on you to go out and do stuff. Actually, I would like to go to a lake somewhere, and take a swim.
All the sun I need is inside me. No, that’s really a misconception(?). There is a storm inside me even though I look like a beutiful winters day.
Hah!
Good damn. It’s just me and the flies here, but the seem to like me at least.
Good afternoon sirs, and madams.
Ce’la’vie
av Max @ 19:32:31 i Old diary | länk | Prat (0)