meet me here.

tiny inhabitant of a tiny village. meet me here and we can talk to eachother, without anyone listening in.

i miss the summer. running down wood stairs, barefooted, hopping outside, running down a street.
i miss tar pits. i miss impromtu everything.



the qualities of a tar pit are in its preservation properties. once i read about people who were frozen and crystalized from nuclear blasted heat, i didnt believe it. but i swear i saw the pictures. or i dreamt about it. the thought really breaks my heart in some ways, but in o\ther ways its a really beautiful thought to be preserved in time, at that moment, just like that.

just like that.
totally unaware. in awe.



meet me here.