situational irony

I’m 3800 miles away from my slushy home grounds and I can’t help but think the city is an addiction. A quiet winter in New York and a quiet winter in Mexico are different. That wasnt supposed to rhyme I’m just in my element and i can hear waves crashing while I write this. I forget the prompt we chose to write to, or if we even chose one. Alex is writing so I’m writing too. but all I hear is waves crashing and I’m in a beautiful place. And I’m wearing a dress on Christmas