So I'm back here again blogging on the blog I've realised I only come to visit in the early hours of the night, or morning. It's 420 hours into Saturday; a time more than ideal to roll up some green and toke to open your eyes to the stars beyond the haze.
Instead I'm back here again blogging, under the same roof, looking at the same damn purple carpet, thinking about my room and the love it's been missing.
This environment was love, it was all I knew at one point - or remembered. So I cannot deny how warm it feels to be here once again. But to feel this warmth, I know the conditions it takes to get here.
A cheeky smile I smile whilst I hold my knees in, looking down at the same god damn purple fucking carpet. Yes, I'm waiting for the pipe to be passed to me, again.
I wonder now how I could look back to reminisce and differentiate which time was which or what day was what.
The conditions I'll abide to pull that cheeky smile I will only consider you as that week night before my birthday that was so senile it seems to have taken two years.
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