3.11.2008

so long, my dear friend.

There is something quiet in you that makes me want to forget all my commitments and imagined realities and drive to Argentina and Portland and San Francisco and Atlanta and Chicago and Maine and smile and take photographs until the years pass and I finally realize that I never accomplished any of the things I wanted to accomplish and that I actually accomplished so much more than anyone could have ever mapped out for me.

On beautiful days, I think of this.

No comments: