faq
i perpetually think i’m seventeen. i like the feel of cold dirt on bare feet when the summer sun starts slipping down on useless, sticky nights. i used to have to race the street lights home and be inside before the fireflies got waist-high. i like the sound of the rain and the sting of gravel between my toes when i’m running, barefoot and mindless along the backside of time. i think it’s the little things that keep us fully alive. lmr
