Here I am in the middle of a monsoon.
It's been raining for 5 straight days, but it's the best of what Orlando has to offer. I'm promised to be drenched no matter what I do, no matter where I go. I am able to use it as a natural cooling system. But quiet frankly, I'm over it.
Before the red decide to stain the radar, I was sitting at a little quaint restaurant on Lake Eola, a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon in hand, and the pages of Charles Bukowski placed nicely on my lap. Swan boats stayed afloat in my peripheral, and I was, for once, at peace. But as soon as I arrived, I had to leave. A parking meter stands in the way of lasting happiness, and unluckily for me, I don't keep coins on hand.
As soon as the floods leave I can be dry. As soon as I'm dry I can think straight once again. But until then, I will complain about the inconvenience. I need the peace.
i love the way you wrote this.
and i can see you sitting just like you said.
you're gonna be an amazing writer one day...
in whatever fashion it may be.
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