the highway is for gamblers better use your sense

Today a child I tutor told me I smell like her old school.

"Crying like a banana in the sun."

I have been watching rock documentaries these past few nights and it has almost decided for me that I don't want to end up a drug addled rock star. In other words, I'd rather end up rolling around in mud for the rest of my life with some flowers stuck in my dreads while tripping on the beauty that is the sky than passed out in some motel bathtub.

Tonight we were bandits, on a walk, sketching the sunset.

And here is me, in the future. (My future shall be the past, with more cats and a couple of good souled dogs.)