elliott on my backporch, this is where i found dreams that i dream about future possibilities in endless friendships which have been constructed instantly out of the mid winter air. somewhere hidden in the background (where the grass is tall) my shadow hides, jumps, runs, away away away into the vast expanse where i laid down countless evenings with countless different lives. the self is ever changing but so is my hair. i cannot begin to communicate how socially unaware i have become because i don't even realize it even when i'm writing sitting smoking and thinking on that second story green love seat porch that i will attempt to recreate a hundred times when the sun stays out longer than it should. we move to fast to remember. i will write on and write on i will, until another epic evening comes across my path and shouts: "hey. lets get some camo 40."