11.24.2012

Explore. Dream. Discover.



It was quarter past 7pm. Everybody was scurrying, the usual hubbub. A faint breeze fanned our faces as we walked towards the bus stop.  Small beads of sweat formed my forehead. That bustling evening was extremely humid. He puffed a smoke as we waited for his old friend. We were both giddy, we knew that we can almost taste the one thing that we were dreamin' of.  After a couple of puffs from the cigarette he was hitting, the wait was over. We took a cab and went southwest. Where we're headed was unfamiliar but that didn’t rub the excitement we felt. Three songs had finished when we took a stop…

A part of my favorite quote by Mark Twain.

 …and under a starless black sky of November 20th, I finally got inked. 

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