I'm realizing my type. Tormented, creative, emotional, reckless, and passionate- a young Bukowski, Kerouac, or HST would suit me well. Someone who dreams big, but lives bigger. Unafraid of all the could haves and would haves, but instead just does. Busy having tumultuous short lived love affairs: getting drunk, making love, and having deep conversations about the human experience. It'd be nice to marry that guy, but that guy doesn't settle down. He blows in like a cool breeze on a hot summer night, and before you know it- he's changed you. Changed the way you see the world.
I wish he wasn't a figment of my imagination.
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Hey, it's me, loudon. I have never forgotten the way my father smelled not even after 22 years.
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