anchorage, day 2. short sleeves. windless. rolling down hills. comfortable silence with people i love. laughing. touching skeins of yarn. tasting vanilla. a true conviction that the world is a fucking beautiful, magical place.
the scenic stuff...



and the other stuff...





i got back to s's tonight- twilight at 1130pm- entered the quiet house, went to the room i'm staying in, stretched out on the air mattress, and stared at the ceiling for a while. smiled. got sad. smiled again. i wish i could bottle the last 36 hours as permanent proof of perfection.
leaving is going to break my fucking heart.