These Walls Talk
So I'm sitting here at 11:20 p.m. listening to my neighbor's music when suddenly it hits me:
I'm ready to move.
(echoes from my so-blogged life)
So I'm sitting here at 11:20 p.m. listening to my neighbor's music when suddenly it hits me:
I'm ready to move.
Posted by thirdworstpoetinthegalaxy at 11:22 PM Labels: city-living, diatribes, neighbors
6 comments:
Do they at least have good taste?
where ya wanna move to?
Sounds like a plan. Move where?
~BPP
XOXO - Nope. I'm not even sure what the genre is; all I know is there's a lot of bass and few words (if any). Like techno or African drums on acid.
DWC and BPP - Whether it's just a new place in this city when my lease is up or a new city altogether... I'm not sure. But my next place better have thicker walls and decent heating.
I can never go back to apartment living.. never.. NEVER!
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