bask

When celsius marks peak against disbelief, there really is no other alternative than ground-sprawling and offering yourself to the sun gods. A bit of a mythological exaggeration, but the lack of effective methods of avoiding becoming human roast are making this whole thing seem highly plausible. Someone is bound my pleas to hear up there. Until then, oddly heat resistant Levi's have turned into the second skin I was so keen on growing. I'll just call it sartorial mutation. I won't say it's corny if you don't.

Denim never posed as a possible summer survival kit for me before until a few days ago when I discovered that my legs could finally breathe again after a few weeks of forced pants formation. You see, I can only go for so long with wearing shorts before disillusioned feelings of nakedness kick in. Being sporadic is the remedy, apparently. Well, back to sun worshipping.