for some reason today i started thinking of when i worked at the park. park guard. ie - sitting in a booth writing poetry on the walls and practicing my guitar. smoking cloves. the one time that i hadn't driven the 30 miles to novi in a while so i was out of cloves and my boycrush dan went to the grocery store and stole cooking cloves for me. i crushed them up and made a smoking apparatus out of a diet coke can. we looked like such drug addicts smoking our cloves. they were a bit harsh - yet still delicious. mmmmmm cloves. sunlight coming through the many many trees. very very few customers. and hours to spend with friends before going home to my parents controlling home. ah... and i wonder why i have the fond memories of smoking.