about three months ago, i found myself laying on a bed in a sauna-like hotel room. there were three other people of the room, and none of them wanted to wake up to a naked mark. i threw the off of me, but it didn't seem to do anything. tossing and turning only made beads of sweat arise on my brow, and i wasn't drunk enough to think about passing out. it was painful.

so, i got out of bed, walked into the bathroom, and, for the first time in my life, ran equal amounts of hot and cold water in a shower. i stepped in and was surprised at how comfortable i was.

throwing on only a pair of boxers, i sat on a windowsill and attentively listened to the street three stories below me. silence. nothing. the only thing i could hear was the crackling burn of thin paper every time i took a drag of the cigarette perched on my lips.


i had never been so comfortable in my life.

no matter what anyone tells you...






there's no place in the world more beautiful than venice.


stop breathing, lose a limb , cut out my heart, pollute my lung, drive my head directly into a brick wall. i'd give it all for one last smell of saltwater across a canal, one last sunset between sand-colored buildings, one last blinding streak of light as it glistens off that green water, one last bead of sweat swiped on my wrist as i desperately listen for something, anything, to pinch me and wake me from those sublime dreams on that windowsill.

venice. i'd die in venice.

tight with the ivy ankles.

air force one japan. almost ended up spending money on shipping for these. i ended up finding them at a finish line in salem, new hampshire. i was baffled. still, they're absolutely fresh.

stayin' pasty in the summer. cyea.