LA Lights.

We were talking philosophy. My tiny and cold finger, covered in gold rings. Long ago, My mind had left the physical setting of the conversation and moved into the colors palettes that my vision is capable of calling upon. He picks me up from school once and awhile but today was so specific. Simply put, I see this day stylized and etched in my memory for ages; though I lack to the ability to delineate exactly why it will do so. Usually, our time spent together is quiet, both of us in the cluster of our own heads.

This afternoon is different, our words are moving in and out and in sync as if they were making love. Philosophical debates, I'm twisted enough to major in the subject and he's deep enough to read the Allegory in the Cave as he beats on the table to Radiohead. Our minds collaged on a series of threads, such as Buddhism and Claustrophobia. Beliefs and terror, we sat chic in our words as I clutched my lighter and he slid his hand between my legs. His fingers moved up as our conversation heightened. Just as quickly as our conversation had began it burned out like the candle I drooped from my 13th floor apartment. With us though, its not about bantering sounds and constant motion of speech. Rather our love is evident through the impending comfortable silence that alters itself alive through our eyes and creeps off our fingertips.

This beautiful story is writen by the even more beautiful girl on the photo's, Rachel from She can read, She's bad. In this overfashionblogged world it is refreshing to find a gem between all those blurry mirrorpictures. The first time I came across her blog I was haunted by her photo's and after that I began to read the stories she wrote. They all are touching and sometimes heartbreaking. I can't speak for what she has to say, go look for yourself.

http://itsclevergirl.wordpress.com/