When I become writer (haha) this is going to be my tranquil and serene get away where I clear my mind and write stories of fanciful, whimsical, and all together fucked up plot lines:
I'll take a picnic basket of organic, vegan foods and lug an old typewriter that doesn't permit copies or allow me to save the shit lines that I'll end up tearing up and tossing out. I will most likely allow my ADD to kick in and I will be distracted by the reflection of the clouds on the lake and twist their appearance into whatever shape/structure/being my mind can conjure up. It will be a good life.
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