Lady lights a cigarette, puffs away, no regret Takes a look around, no regrets, no regrets Stretches out like branches of a poplar tree She says, I’m free Sings so soft as if she’ll break, says I can sing this song so blue That you will cry in spite of you
“I was half in love with her by the time we sat down. That’s the thing about girls. Every time they do something pretty, even if they’re not much to look at, or even if they’re sort of stupid, you fall half in love with them, and then you never know where the hell you are.”—J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye (via skeletales, quote-book)
a bouquet of clumsy words: you know that place between sleep and awake where your still dreaming but it`s slowly slipping? i wish we could feel like that more often. i also wish i could click my fingers three times and be transported to anywhere i like. i wish that people didn`t always say ‘just wondering’ when you both know there was a real reason behind them asking. and i wish i could get lost in the stars.
listen, there`s a hell of a good universe next door, let`s go.