[Saturday July 2nd, 2005] Friends Only. Comment to be added. 27 ♥ love

[Friday July 1st, 2005] She’s stuck in a world of go-go-go when all she wants to do is stop and smell the warm summer breeze. “Have you ever felt something so passionate, so love-filled that you just feel like you’re going to rupture from fullness?” Passers by don’t care for her long-haired nonsense, ignoring her spacey laughter and blithe words. She retires in long, green grass with her hand-painted old guitar and writes songs of hope and devotion. Her feet are calloused but at liberty; she wanders all over unshod and unrestricted. She paints, she sings, she writes, she makes. People everywhere wonder what it would take to nurture such a pet, to capture something so wildly beautiful and tame it to orderliness. She doesn’t eat much, already full from large hits of passion, of love, of life. Find her sitting on the patio in the middle of winter, dark coffee and attractive cigarette gestures. Her deep blue eyes never stop gleaming and her sunshining face never stops smiling. She could hurt someone with ardor that passionate. Hair plaited eccentrically to match perfectly her attitude free from care and filled with bliss. She’s harmonious, she’s unconventional. I miss her. Sitting at her window sill, hands outstretched towards the sun, singing crazily and loudly, strangers stop to tsktsk and to admire her unusual gracefulness. “Be careful,” they warn, “you might full up into the sky!” Giggling and still crooning in a sing-song voice, she smiles. “I’m already there.” love

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