this may just be the writer in me but this weather makes me want to curl up in my room and write ballads in your honor until my fingers get tired. lyrics, stanzas, narratives all in the glory of your name. epics, on your behalf.

sweet goodness, listening to the blues on my way to school is rarely a conducive practice because if this ain’t “in my feelings”, then I don’t know what is. let me get my coffee and relax my heart. this is what inspiration feels like.