

That which is ComfortingThat which is ComfortingThat which is Comforting
They've this small shine in their nature, so subtle and yet demanding of attention, for these fine things, that are discreet luxuries, are comforts which I find pleasure taking part in.
I just went grocery shopping. Oddly, I never really liked parading about 8 feet high shelves of choices and retirees of American servitude, but perhaps its the experience--different and most thrilling--when you're a single male in the big city and you've no mother to send you strolling dimly to find the bright orange detergent box that for some reason in 3 clean steps of the find the detergent's name has alrea


Into the alleysInto the Alleys, On to the RooftopsInto the alleys
I'm humming right now, trying to find the note sister to the song of the wind. It's baritone. It's kind of Nina Simone-like, but with a seducing air--breathy and severely sensual like Sade. I'm compelled to kiss a red balloon and blow upon its neck, until it's vulnerable, ripe and a glossy apple in color. I want to string my blessings and troubles--from tie to knot--and swing south upon the clay made rooftops of a Mexican village.
I want to sink like fallen rain into the alleys of brittle pebble paved roads, and be the puddles. We are a collective of friends both drip and drop, no
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