I just wanna dance

I’m supposed to be studying, but Prince is on my pandora and I’m chillin in a cafe full of warm roasts and surrounded by sunshine. All I wanna do is spit that fly shyt. I wanna dance in circles and write. I want to enroll in spanish class, and italian, and french. I’m feeling particularily romantic. I want to eat nothing but wine and cheese and fruit. I want to run on down to yoga class. I want to online shop like you read about- mostly for CDs and earrings. I want to stroll around with nothing but my camera- taking pictures of flowers on wooden slats- decayed from too much water, and vines growing between the slats- mocking nails and construction; flowers screaming we are more powerful, and more persistent, and alive. I want to read trashy romance novels- and try writing one myself. The left side of brain is kicking the right’s ass- damnitt, I have to get back to this Qbank.

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