I’m on Apollo 11, I’m on a mission.
Trees break the sidewalk
And the sidewalk skins my knee
There’s glass in my thermos
And blood on my jeans
Nickels and dimes
Of the 4th of July
Roll off in a crooked line
To the chain-link lots
Where the red-tails dive
Oh how I’d forgot what it’s like.
After being in Harry Potter, I believe a bit more in magic than I did before.
-Rupert Grint
… and down the rabbit hole we go…
Who was I, really? I was the sole occupant of my mother’s totalitarian state, my own personal history rewritten to fit the story she was telling that day. There were so many missing pieces. I was starting to find some of them, working my way upriver, collecting a secret cache of broken memories in a shoebox.
“Surround yourself with intelligent people. That’s the key to life,” yelled a homeless man to me two days ago.