call me when you get there.

I don't see how the sumer could get any better than it did last night. It's insane how exponentially better this summer is than the last. I don't really know what words I can use to quantify my elation or the beauty of listening to the sky as I float alongside it. There are none that I can think of. Only Faulkner could ever put it into words. Or in his case, non-words used to embody something that cannot be embodied, something that is and can never be was and will always be.