Woke up this morning and it seemed to me, that every night turns out to be A little more like Bukowski. And yeah, I know he’s a pretty good read. But God who’d wanna be? God who’d wanna be such an asshole?
The days get shorter and the nights get cold. I like the autumn but this place is getting old. I pack up my belongings and I head for the coast. It might not be a lot but I feel like I’m making the most. The days get longer and the nights smell green. I guess it’s not surprising but it’s spring and I should leave.