“The line of the ocean cut the sky. The ocean mounted as the city descended. She passed the pincales of the bank buildings. She passed the crowns of courthouses. She rose above the spires of churches.
Then there was only the ocean and the sky and the fugure of Howard Roark.”
Ayn Rand “The Fountainhead”
there are revolving doors
and secret doors.
The air was crisp at 6:00 am. The sun was slowly turning the blue air orange, while it streaked violently across the sky, stretching its fingertips thin. 6:00 am tastes like waking up early for a family vacation; dreary eye’s rubbed my hands at the end of sore limbs. Almost unconsiss walking up the still wet stone steps. The steal of the door breaks with the force of my hands.
i didn’t sleep last night, i drank 5 cups of coffee at Luna’s. I met someone named Joe there that was also studying for exams. Turns out were in school for the same thing, studying for the same thing. He had a friend that was at least 6’5” and had a plastic bag with cigars in them, from veneswalea and florida.
- insert list of possible complications here -
- insert slightly longer list of why i dont care -
this was a turnaround evening.
a little update on my note.
i guess i am intriuging XD.
i wrote a note to someone i don’t know today and slipped it into their history book when they weren’t looking.
