r

I miss feeling music when I would listen to it. I miss autumn and new faces and feelings and freedom and carelessness and being wasteful and lousy. I miss wood and moss and metal and inscence and nakedness and hopelesness. I miss not knowing the consequences. I miss thinking I had nothing to lose. I miss folding hands and taking busses and driving and losing myself to song alone the 401 for a few hours.. I miss the faces of family with genuine love in their smiles. I miss keeping secrets. I miss reading things and seeing things and beauty and being okay with being alone. I miss wanting to expand my friendships. I miss enjoying wenesdays to myself in a nook in Chapters with Bukowski. I miss tea every morning. I miss being woken up by the sun. I miss getting away with everything. I miss being stupid and selfish and intrigued.