It's fall. It's dark and chilly outside. I'm riding in the back of a car, with all the windows rolled down to allow clouds of cigartte smoke to float outside, so we don't suffocate. We just got done smoking fat blunts at the Cooper River. There is this song playing. It is a really pretty song, but I don't even know the words, or what it's called. This skinny, blond headed kid is sitting in the front passenger seat. He smiles at me in the mirror on the side of the car.

It's not like that any more. There is no more smoking[fat blunts] at Cooper River anymore. There are no more car rides spent just to sober up a bit kill time before curfew. There is no skinny, blond headed kid smiling at me in the mirror any more.

There is one thing that's the same though. I still remember the small part of that pretty song, and just that one part I remember is enough to remind me how much cooler shit used to be. I'm not bitching, or complaining. I'm just saying that, I used to have much higher expectations for my liesure time, quite a bit ago. It's fine though.