i am in love (sometimes)

Make Some Sort of Sense Out of It

Skipping rocks, fuck that shit. Or maybe just a lame excuse to feel free; except it made us feel more alive than ever. Drops of rain soaked our bodies, as joy dumbed our senses. Our toes were discomforting to the sand, and words so unspeakably lame were exchanged between. Every awkward silence was an excuse to drink. So we drank a lot. And that excuse entailed swigs of shitty white. We cringed, at least I did, as the warm booze traveled our bodies to cure our numbness to the world; we didn’t have any numbness, we were frickin wasted. She didn’t talk much, thank god, but I couldn’t tell if she was a foreign or not. It didn’t matter, this evening together solidified our shitty friendship. She was kinda rad I guess. Most likely her baggy clothes made her seem even cooler than she really was. I’m not sure why, I just think baggy is the new black. Anyways, we were welcomed by silence. On the one hand, actually on the other hand- dancing became more than a chore. The bailando, or the dancing, as some call it, didn’t come natural to me; our hands gravitated together, we had no care in the world. Sloppy dancing was cool, but it was still sloppy dancing. And mediocre sunsets lasted forever. Anxious to make noise, we listened as silence faded our soulful beings to black.