let lemons be angry

We keep doing this to ourselves. Like wearing beautiful pointed-toe heels despite them being the most awful devices of torture ever created. Pretty soon i'll be examining the damage and swearing off this habit again. And then the tide will come in and the tide will go out, and i'll forget all about solemn promises and new directions. I'll be letting trouble in the next time it comes knocking, and blame all my needless tragedy on the sheer inevitability of it. Till then, promise not to stop when i say "when".

And you. I don't have to spell out the ways i will miss all of you. The girls of 1D-- my dust, my safety, my good feeling. Don't let me down. Promise me you will fulfill all the dreams we've talked about. Then these jc days will truly be the bright start of things, not a mere cliche of youthful idealism and dreamweaving. Don't let our happiness become ironic in retrospect. We will always be each other's heroes, and we will always think (too) highly of our chemistry.

I was thinking that maybe sylvester was the one riding the bicycle in the fields. The reeds, the educated girl, his singular passion. After all, he lives right beside the fields.