falling into that moment when the world goes to sleep and the cat and I visit the land of smirks. This cold air is a kiss from every soul that ever existed beyond the grasp of anything else that ever walked before 3:30 AM. It’s fun and yet it has this quality that reminds me of the first time I opened my eyes to the ocean underwater and saw the other side of the world.
Booklights and leather bound sketchbooks whisper the secrets of the last people awake at these hours. These earbuds talk to me about history and tones and notes by the greater artist than I.
I’m just wondering if the stars look up and see us?