A stolen weekend
A weekend filled with the ridiculousness of sitting in a backseat with two other people, knees up to your chest and thighs pressed to thighs. Filled with laughter, and light, and the balancing line between being by yourself and being with others.
July 4, 2011
I am sitting in a car, my hair being touched by the sun and blown around by the wind. My pen tracing the shapes of these letters, that means something to me.
I think that the purest form of joy is to simply be. To feel a full and complete emotion. Something which touches.
And light. Light is a pure joy.