Espresso is a fluid of God.

"Let us be what we can." -Elizabeth Frasier

I suppose that the sort of quiet black rambling that roams around in me isn't any sort of gothic flavor but coffee. I have so many journals bound around me and I haven't filled half of them. I have a mental obligation to do so but a physical obligation to get a job, since I need to substain myself, and not just with bills, but food as well.

Let's hear it for truth.

Beauty gets a nod, as well.

Important things are shifting and lining up. I can watch them arrange with the wide eyes of a six-year-old boy or with the look of a man. Maybe I'm just a "guy" and fall in-between. Justin's room is empty. Dean has three doors in front of his. The staircase is a million miles these days.

imperfect,

Jared