Idle hands really are the devils playthings...it's nights like this when the lurst bubbles in my heart. I mean sometimes I'll step outside and feel the crisp but not too cold summer / fall night air and I look at the sky and it'll just feel like a night for jumping up and down. I mean I can't think of the word right now (if you know the word a winner is you, and it's crazy I know the definition but not the word; certain smells evoking memories) but it's when you might smell pine trees and think about the Talkboy you got for christmas when you were 8. Anyways I look at the moon and just think of all the debauch I've done on nights like this; on the hood of my car, drinking a arizona green tea and saluting a nearby flag all unbeknownst to her, in a church parking lot, behind driving ranges, in the macarthur mall garage after a lloyd banks concert, on front porches. I wish I could txt each one of them "thnks 4 the mmrys" because every night like this, I'm assaulted by memories like those.
