less-than-perfect

I have a great piece coming up. This isn’t it, I misplaced it, but as soon as I find it, I’ll post it. This one is less-than-perfect. The less-than-perfect summer felt like love. There were some genuine moments of glamor and a few new, intense, sense-memories to recall. It wasn’t easy but we performed that magic called holidaymaking - things in life don’t just happen. Ok, some things just happen, like slips and falls, heatwaves, hurricanes, accidents and aging, but the good things, like love, and hotel bookings usually require a little planning and effort. On the beach there’s a sense of infinite space, but it comes with its own kind of circumscription You know, deep down, that it’s only summer, and the paradise offered is slippery and temporary. It’s the dark side of long holiday freedom, that the discordant noises of fun soon fade, like tans. Strips of perfect polaroid pix, will be stuck to my dorm room wall - scenes that will act as talismans, tchotchke-like reminders of overly straightened hair, sweet kisses and foolish shenanigans. So, bring on the less-than-perfect hours of study, I’ve done it before and I’m just about ready. Bring on the weeks of less-than-perfect sleep, It’s senior year, the experience should be unique. Bring on the less-than-perfect social submission, I’m a less-than-perfect girl on a less-than secret mission. . . Songs for this: Don't Forget the Sun but The Explorers Club Feel It Still by Portugal. The Man