Sometimes you wake up and you just feel old and tired. I put on Father John Misty and lay there staring at the ceiling. I know this ceiling well. I've memorized its attitude and it knows more about me than anything else.
O, I long to feel your arms around me.
Guy is singing like an angel in a church and spreading positive smiles. And laughing that laugh that is contagious, that laugh that sounds like it's the first funny thing he's ever heard.
Snow has not reached New York City yet, and I wonder if it has melted in Pittsburgh.
I wonder if louie is curled up in a blanket on the couch.
It's Christmas Eve and I feel mellow.
Good Morning.
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