Sunday, 18 September 2011

nostalgia is chic

when you walked into my Starbucks, I felt hot in the face. my stomach churned as you ordered. I could utter nothing but asinine babble about your tote bag, hoping in my social awkwardness that a spark of conversation could be had. I spent weeks not knowing, without acknowledgment. and then, I swam with you under the stars in the dead of night. I laid down with you in bitter fear as my asinine babble became poignant speech about what it all sincerely meant to me. and you were there to catch me as I dove right into it.

that's all that mattered during all that time. the rest can be left behind. but those sparse moments were etched into the grain canvas of my thoughts. and everyday, as they resurface, comes the asinine babble, the hot face and the churning stomach as I allow myself a few sparse moments of knowing and acknowledgement. I don't fear it anymore.

Saturday, 10 September 2011

reckless nights

reunited, after a long summer ...
we indulged in gin, wonderful friends, acoustic guitars, new balconies, dancing, and most importantly : each other.
feeling alive is chic

modes of transportation

vespas, scooters, even bikes (with wicker baskets)
chic.