Tanglewood

I just can't help it...I'm addicted to Air...
I feel that if I'm listening to something I should share it with every member of my vast fan base.
So, I'm listening to Air again.

Tomorrow morning I trade one suburban hell for another of similar proportions.
Two more weeks.
I don't know if I can hang.
I'll be in Houston, and we all know what happens when I'm in Houston.
I won't leave the neighborhood, I'll make a few feeble attempts at exercise, I'll sit on the off white, still semi-new, leather couch my mom bought to keep up with the Hewlett Packard division of the Joneses, staring around the room, searching for something interesting to write about, since it sure as hell won't be the events of my day (uh, sitting around can be interesting, right?), and failing because my imagination doesn't function in a void.

I hope my mom never reads this. I think it would hurt her feelings.

Houston...
If only there were more than a single acre of forested land within a hundred mile radius of that city. I'm exaggerating. I'm displacing blame. The incredible suction of the black holes that are my mom's living room and Direct TV, renders me incapable of any adventuring beyond weed fueled walks around the detention pond.
Yes, I do plan on smoking while I'm there. Oh Lord I gotta!

"Cause it's just another day
You will lose it anyway."
Air

They're French. The simplicity of their lyrics is haunting.
They make me feel high when I'm not.
My soul feels light, clean. Airy.