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True story everyone.

Malaga, Spain

The faint roar of crashing waves rolling in matches the aura of the fresh, salty air. I lightly tread to the end of the veranda, my brow tightened slightly, my eyes squinting in the bright light of the early dawn. As one other hand pulled my drink closer to my mouth, the other gripped the pen upon which I was to write.
“Commitment is a large undertaking for man, my querito”, I began to write. I glanced below and saw the sun in it’s full entirety, break through the open sky, a deep lasting fire. Following what it does, everyday, a routine, same old same old. What I’m so afraid of.
I dropped my pen loudly and decided to write later, maybe when the weather is more unpredictable .

2 Weeks Later
Milan, Italy

She pulls me close. Her incredibly dark hair is so… so.. Invigorating, attractive, exotic. The curl of her Italian lips invites my touch, her features desiring mine.
The beautiful shops below have stopped their hussle and flow, and are only a faint murmur in the ever so near distance. Our conversation we’ve had since we met at the pool has carried on, her lingering voice wavering slightly like smoke in the dusky air.
She smiles, and politely asks me in broken English to step closer. We’re on a terrace overlooking a small vineyard of ruby tomatoes and a smattering of olive trees. The air is rich, heavy in heat and feeling. Her cheeks are flushed, a dark rouge, complimenting the fallibility within her eyes. The glowing of the red lantern to our right flickers, once, twice, before it reignites, mimicking my own heart rate. That feeling where the air stops, our faces begin to slant down, and our feet won’t touch the ground wash over me. Her tall, beautiful frame is everything I need. Man desires this.
We lean in. But I know this isn’t right, isn’t what I want, and isn’t best for me. I gently pull away and whisper to her ‘I’m sorry.”
I give pace to a faster step and leave her in disbelief.

14 days Later
Toronto, Canada

I spin. I see her. I hold her. We fade, casting our cares to the stars, like comets on summer nights. Undefinable, perfect.

This is my life. True story.
http://tylerstunna.blogspot.com/

True story everyone. I just got back from vacation to all of these locations.

Malaga, Spain

The faint roar of crashing waves rolling in matches the aura of the fresh, salty air. I lightly tread to the end of the veranda, my brow tightened slightly, my eyes squinting in the bright light of the early dawn. As one other hand pulled my drink closer to my mouth, the other gripped the pen upon which I was to write.
“Commitment is a large undertaking for man, my querito”, I began to write. I glanced below and saw the sun in it’s full entirety, break through the open sky, a deep lasting fire. Following what it does, everyday, a predictable routine, same old same old. What I’m so afraid of.
I softly allowed my pen to fall my grasp, and it rushed downwards, loudly landing on the wood boards below with a soft clank. I stared it at the writing instrument, blankly, my mind wandering, sifting through thoughts as murky as back water canals in Venice. I decided to write later, maybe when the weather is more unpredictable .

2 Weeks Later
Milan, Italy

She pulls me close. Her incredibly dark hair is so… so.. Invigorating, attractive, exotic. The curl of her Italian lips invites my touch, her features desiring mine.
The beautiful shops below have stopped their hustle and flow, and are only a faint murmur in the ever so near distance. Our conversation we’ve had since we met at the pool has carried on, her lingering voice wavering slightly like smoke in the dusky air.
She smiles, and politely asks me in broken English to step closer. We’re on a terrace overlooking a small vineyard of ruby tomatoes and a smattering of olive trees. The air is rich, heavy in heat and feeling. Her cheeks are flushed, a dark rouge, complimenting the fallibility within her eyes. The glowing of the red lantern to our right flickers, once, twice, before it reignites, mimicking my own heart rate. That feeling where the air stops, our faces begin to slant down, and our feet won’t touch the ground wash over me. Her tall, beautiful frame is everything I need. Man desires this.
We lean in. But I know this isn’t right, isn’t what I want, and isn’t best for me. I gently pull away and whisper to her ‘I’m sorry.”
I give pace to a faster step and leave her in disbelief.

14 days Later
Toronto, Canada

I spin. I see her. I hold her. We fade, casting our cares to the stars, like comets on summer nights. My shivers make me sigh. My sighs make your mouth curl into a smile. Undefinable, perfect.
This is my life. True story.
http://tylerstunna.blogspot.com/

True story everyone. I just got back from vacation to all of these locations.

Malaga, Spain

The faint roar of crashing waves rolling in matches the aura of the fresh, salty air. I lightly tread to the end of the veranda, my brow tightened slightly, my eyes squinting in the bright light of the early dawn. As one other hand pulled my drink closer to my mouth, the other gripped the pen upon which I was to write.
“Commitment is a large undertaking for man, my querito”, I began to write. I glanced below and saw the sun in it’s full entirety, break through the open sky, a deep lasting fire. Following what it does, everyday, a predictable routine, same old same old. What I’m so afraid of.
I looked up, as I gently allowed my pen to fall from my clenched fingers, and it rushed downwards, loudly landing on the wood boards below. It fell, rushed, out of my grasp, just like you with me. I stared it at the writing instrument, blankly, my mind wandering, sifting through thoughts as murky as back water canals in Venice.I decided to write later, maybe when the weather is more unpredictable .

2 Weeks Later
Milan, Italy

She pulls me close. Her incredibly dark hair is so… so.. Invigorating, attractive, exotic. The curl of her Italian lips invites my touch, her features desiring mine.
The beautiful shops below have stopped their hustle and flow, and are only a faint murmur in the ever so near distance. Our conversation we’ve had since we met at the pool has carried on, her lingering voice wavering slightly like smoke in the dusky air.
She smiles, and politely asks me in broken English to step closer. We’re on a terrace overlooking a small vineyard of ruby tomatoes and a smattering of olive trees. The air is rich, heavy in heat and feeling. Her cheeks are flushed, a dark rouge, complimenting the fallibility within her eyes. The glowing of the red lantern to our right flickers, once, twice, before it reignites, mimicking my own heart rate. That feeling where the air stops, our faces begin to slant down, and our feet won’t touch the ground wash over me. Her tall, beautiful frame is everything I need. Man desires this.
We lean in. But I know this isn’t right, isn’t what I want, and isn’t best for me. I gently pull away and whisper to her ‘I’m sorry.”
I give pace to a faster step and leave her in disbelief.

14 days Later
Toronto, Canada

I spin. I see her. I hold her. We fade, casting our cares to the stars, like comets on summer nights. My shivers make me sigh. My sighs make your mouth curl into a smile. Undefinable, perfect.
This is my life. True story.
http://tylerstunna.blogspot.com/

True story everyone. I just got back from vacation to all of these locations.

Malaga, Spain

The faint roar of crashing waves rolling in matches the aura of the fresh, salty air. I lightly tread to the end of the veranda, my brow tightened slightly, my eyes squinting in the bright light of the early dawn. As one other hand pulled my drink closer to my mouth, the other gripped the pen upon which I was to write.
“Commitment is a large undertaking for man, my querito”, I began to write. I glanced below and saw the sun in it’s full entirety, break through the open sky, a deep lasting fire. Following what it does, everyday, a predictable routine, same old same old. What I’m so afraid of.
I looked up, as I gently allowed my pen to fall from my clenched fingers, and it rushed downwards, loudly landing on the wood boards below. It fell, rushed, out of my grasp, just like you with me, I thought. I stared at the writing instrument, blankly, my mind wandering, sifting through thoughts as murky as swirling storm drains…Where’s the storm in our lives? I decided to write later, maybe when the weather is more unpredictable .

2 Weeks Later
Milan, Italy

She pulls me close. Her incredibly dark hair is so… so.. Invigorating, attractive, exotic. The curl of her Italian lips invites my touch, her features desiring mine.
The beautiful shops below have stopped their hustle and flow, and are only a faint murmur in the ever so near distance. Our conversation we’ve had since we met at the pool has carried on, her lingering voice wavering slightly like smoke in the dusky air. The chair I sit on feels weak, sweaty, as if I could fall through these weaved patterns, ruining this moment.
She smiles, and politely asks me in broken English to step closer. We’re on a terrace overlooking a small vineyard of ruby tomatoes and a smattering of olive trees. The air is rich, heavy in heat and feeling. Her cheeks are flushed, a dark rouge, complimenting the fallibility within her eyes. The glowing of the red lantern to our right flickers, once, twice, before it reignites, mimicking my own heart rate. That feeling where the air stops, our faces begin to slant down, and our feet won’t touch the ground wash over me. Her tall, beautiful frame is everything I need. Man desires this.
We lean in. But I know this isn’t right, isn’t what I want, and isn’t best for me. I gently pull away and whisper to her ‘I’m sorry.”
I give pace to a faster step and leave her in disbelief.

14 days Later
Toronto, Canada

I spin. I see her, the real girl for me. I hold her. We fade, casting our cares to the stars, like comets on summer nights. My shivers make me sigh. My sighs make your mouth curl into a smile. Undefinable, perfect, stable. Commitment foreseeable.

This is my life. True story.
http://tylerstunna.blogspot.com/