who wears headphones on his head
and is prone to nostalgia on the regular.
he sips lattes every morning as he walks
and walks
and walks
while humming along to WHY? or Doseone or Sole
or something even more obscure...
and he thinks
and he thinks
and he thinks
until he reaches a porch of some sort in Seattle
where he takes off his backpack
it's always black
and then writes
and he writes
and he writes
and he writes
and my god, this week Lucas
and my god, this month Lucas
and my god, this life Lucas
i am obsessed with you, friend.
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