pocket full of kash

now listening: A Contracorriente by Alvaro Soler, David Bisbal  Some days, it slipped through blinds uninvited, flattening itself into thin, bronze strips on my wall. Other days, when it didn't come to me first, I chased after it, let it lather my skin in syrupy gold. But as soon as I grew comfortable in its golden company, it'd remind me of its inevitable… fickleness . On lazy mid-afternoons, it did not saunter in. No, it blazed with no regard for subtlety with the vain blue sky as its accompaniment, practically blinding my line of sight. Yet I still sought after it with unmatched fervor. The sun is always more a guest than anything else—a guest I was and am embarrassingly eager for the company of, whose visits I preserve in my camera. Even when it plays hard to get, hiding beneath clouds or dropping mere flecks of sunlight onto the sidewalk, I continue "persiguiendo el sol," chasing the sun, in hopes to capture even a sliver of its beauty in time (Alvaro Soler, Dav...