Create a Post.

It's not very often that I type directly into Create a Post. Usually it's a blind type, my eyes glued to my scrawled on pages, re-entering the time I was "going to burst" with love or wanted to know if they could "feel that surge".
At 6:17 pm, I am on the loveseat and typing directly in. No Insert. No Copy Paste. Just me, right now.
My toenails are dark purple--not black, I swear. Are they emo? Are they me? Maybe and no. But I don't really care these days. I have entered this new world where Everything is a possibility, Anything could happen. And it will. It is. New plans are springing forth from nowhere, but then again, maybe they've been pressurizing for a while now.
A House: the Lookout House. We like the idea of our place having a name. Gigantic rose bushes. Flowers in the window sill. A wooden front door. A yard. Two GIANT trees. Five, count 'em, five parking spaces. Murals on cardboard. Spilling bookshelves. English speaking [whoa]. Posters of Europe. Us pictures everywhere. Us everywhere and together and loving it.
We ran through our visions in the six o'clock hour today. Kate and I. Air that smelled like Pinckney, Janny's old yard, Vienna in the am, blossoms, all at the same time. We will adorn ourselves in drawers and drawers of race tees this summer. Why not? It doesn't kill me to go to bed before the day changes and I don't die when I wake up before seven. I became more alive than I have been in a long while. Only the UTA and the garbage man drove by. Only the die-hards in their flowy, short shorts and skinny legs passed us on the sidewalk.
We perspired. We breathed. We runned.
Gosh, I love Katie Harris.

Through the rain-stained glass panes I sit beside, everything looks like home. GREENness. Every imaginable tree, mountains that belong in New Zealand, charcoal cloudy coverings threatening to rip open. I hope they do. I await that crash, that flash.
Don't try and crash my rainbow, don't try and stop my storm.
Let's rain walk tonight, wanna?
Good. Me too.
Maybe lightning will make us lucky later on.

I have a tightness today. Yesterday was high in the sky, but today I am grounded once again. My heart seems to feel more comfortable in a constant sprint. No Idea can get uncomfortable. But my days will go on and I will keep up, will anticipate what I want to happen.
It's figuring that out the "what" that proves problematic.

Hold it up, hold it strong, stay right here where you belong.
Hold it up, hold it tight, the only plans of mine
Might sound to you cliche,
but I just plan to live the rest of. My. LIFE!

all the way ^up^

Yes, I whisper. Let the earth be cleansed. Rain your hearts out storm clouds. You are just what I prayed for tonight.