Colder weather. Rainy nights. Strong winds. Fireplaces. First kisses. Maybe more. Late nights with friends. New bands you’ve never heard of but will love for the rest of your life. Football games. Weekend road trips. Parents weekend. Goals, dreams, aspirations…you have such potential. To find that it all comes screeching to a halt with the phrase of a book in your Philosophy of Literature class. The words of an old Bob Dylan song. You start re-thinking everything. A First kiss. Again. Coffee on a cool morning. They’re just words. And you’re young. Still young enough to remember prom and old enough to know you only like Menthols and scotch, not beer. Just words. You smile, remembering the socks you put on this morning.
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