Down through the South, across the Appalachian Mountains and straight on till New York City. Covered in innocence and mountain-high clean air, you have been through the same as me, but we’re not talking about it. We don’t need to. I’d rather drive away from it, and see the yellows of Pennsylvania around two in the afternoon. Giving and silence have been my sorrow, now I am writing my own rules, doing things for myself. I never told anyone what I wanted.
Come to think of it, I didn’t tell you either; but I didn’t have to. You already knew. You wanted the same as me. Open air, clean sheets, wet toes and an apartment on the Lower East Side. We’ll get there. Don’t you worry. I’ve never let anything slip through my fingers, and you’re not going to be the first.
hat by american apparel
tiger shirt by chaser
boots by jeffery campbell