you can't make old friends

REMI

the alchemist

there's a feeling i get when i look to the west,
& my spirit is crying for leaving.

Sunglasses hid the dark circles beneath Remi's eyes as he slowly made his way towards the boxing ring. There had been a lot of drinking the night before, both in figuring out the vote as well as after. Sleeping wouldn't do any good he knew; he needed some food and needed to get his ass in gear so that his body had some way of digesting the copious amounts of liquor still in his system.

"Jata—!" Remi called in a low voice, his fingers barely tapping on the door. Even so, he winced beneath his dark lenses at the sound of his own voice. Pressing his forehead against the cool wood and speaking against it, he whispered: "It's Remi. Open up. It's too fucking bright out here."

in my thoughts I have seen rings of smoke through the trees
& the voices of those who stand looking.