senior year (2012), drawings that won me money.
Approximately seven days until I leave the middle of the country to head out East and embrace my new surroundings. Looking forward to it, feeling nostalgic about it, planning to come back to this. But until then, until this becomes that, I will be looking forward to being in a new place.
Not to mention taking full and complete advantage over obtaining and apartment with SUPER COOL ROOFTOP ACCESS. To all of my friends coming to visit, I hope you’re all ready, man.
“I’m really, really glad that you’re not an artist,” I said, whipping away the hair that had tangled itself in my mouth.
The highway breezed beneath us for a few beats, nothing but the tandem wind beating in through both windows and the chunk-chunk sound of tires over road construction. You know, summer. “I’m just glad you’re not. Artists just… have a lot of feelings.”
“Oh. I get that. But like, all of you?”
The car settled back into the slow chunk-chunk rhythm as I angrily pushed away the same chunk of overgrown bangs that was threatening to expand its territory to completely-down-my-esophagus. “Some of us are just better at hiding it than others.”
“Yeah,” I responded, swatting the hair away again as I considered which pair of scissors in the house would be most well suited to a hair cut.