Cigarettes Around A Campfire
Cigarettes around a Campfire
There’s seven billion people in the world. There’s 300 million Americans in this country. And 10 million fuckers in the god-forsaken state. But there’s something about you, out of the millions and billions that surround me. You have this aura that attracts me in ways beyond my five senses can fathom. I tell myself a hundred times a day, these fancy clichés, to try and create a happier alternative. While you understand the physics behind what truly makes this 4,000 mile wide Mother Earth go round. You like downers, while I pull up any chance I get. You’re the yin to my yang. Let’s mix and melt together into something far beyond grey. No colours can match your smile and that spark in your eyes that burns like a bonfire in my heart. So let’s gather around the campfire to sing silly songs and smoke silly things. Let’s eat something a little funny and see what the night brings. There’s an empty seat to my right. Will you be my left-hand man just for tonight? I want you to leave your worry at the door, there’s no room for that here. Another cigarette while you drink your beer. Let’s talk about how our paths crossed, if they’ll connect again, or if they might have to part. But before we do, just give me a little longer to cherish this night in my heart.
A trippy write.
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