Devils With Halos And Beautiful Capes

.. With a stack of books a mile high that despite all my efforts to get to, yet have not the time to do so regardless of my efforts, I have never felt more like Henry Bemis than I do now. Stupid non-stop modern world. Mr. Lafleur, zombie love, Canada, lasagna, the smell of dusty old used books, coffee, Tuesdays at the Brass Rail, small locally owned Ma and Pa's, Chik-O-Sticks,fighting the man,unusual sex practices, nicotine,thrift stores, freckles, grilled cheese, October, train horns in the dead of night, Ray Bradbury, outrage, All Nite Skate, trampled yet trying, self-made families, shoegazer, free thinkers, rats, holding him, tropical Skittles, scary movies, the shades of gray, liquored debates, comfortable silence, neighbor waves, controversy, burning churches, granola, the middle finger, bon fires, video games, Pabst, vintage cups, photography, heads in the clouds, zebra wheat grass, the storm's arrival, remaining humble, thinking of that cabin by the lake under the mountain, clicking download, librarians, Middle Earth, World War II, squirrel antics, the god given human right to..., Ellen Ripley, stir fry, we/together/the greater good, Lynchian, days off, the scents and smoke rolling off of a grill, sleeping in every day, "Hey, you wanna ride?", feedback noise, stillness, beer in the afternoon, live shows, movies in bed, Lindenwood, those who weep freely, redheaded, accents, solace, UNO, silver Christmas trees, bitching, hand held (it helps), redemption, starting "The Boy Who Slept On Stone Street" and writing bad fiction in general, lore, closing my eyes, whooping ass at Mario Kart, feeling the air on my face, the dim light under the sheets, the necessity of monsters,soft focus...