First real sun in days and I couldn't bring myself to button anything up. You'd do the same if you had this porch and this light.
19:14
First real sun in days and I couldn't bring myself to button anything up. You'd do the same if you had this porch and this light.
The storm took the worst of the heat with it but left everything buzzing â the air, the streetlights, my skin. This slip is the only thing between me and all that warm, wet night. Bet you'd rather feel it than read about it.
Ninety-six degrees chased me straight out of my clothes and into the shower, and I'm in no rush to leave. There's room under this water if you want it.
The AC gave up before I did, so I took everything off and found the only cool spot left in this apartment. Tell me you wouldn't do the same if you were here.
Thursday nights always get me in trouble â tonight I skipped the texting and went straight to the part where I make myself come. You're not here, but that doesn't mean you can't watch.
People assume that because I'm comfortable in front of a camera, I'm comfortable being seen. Those are two completely different things â one is a performance, the other actually terrifies me.
I used to think restlessness meant something was wrong, but now I'm starting to think it's just my body asking for something I haven't figured out yet â like an itch I can't quite reach.
There's this sliver of time between afternoon and actual evening where I feel like anything could happen â like the whole night is still an open invitation. I love that feeling of possibility more than the plans themselves sometimes.
Sunday afternoons hit different when you stop trying to fill every second with something. Just lying here letting the light shift across the room, and for once my brain is quiet enough to actually enjoy it.
Leftover crab legs, bare legs, and zero shame at 8am. Saturdays are for eating whatever you want in whatever you want.