ジョシュ・ブローリンのインスタグラム(joshbrolin) - 4月4日 07時41分

He laid there long into the night blowing into a bottle of Jack Daniels making long fog horn sounds, watching the fans blades swirl above him until his lungs gasped for another breath, he drank, only to again blow another whine of some dying animal. When he thought of it he would try and follow one of its blades, his head making small counterclockwise circles when he did it, though within seconds he would lose sight of it and resort back to the flurry of all the blades blending into each other. This threw his mind back to when he was broken down on the side of a road one night waiting for a tow truck, watching all those other cars zip past him, once in a while trying to focus on just one, thinking that time only ever lasted as long as he kept his eyes on it. He thought about it and blew across the bottle’s rim again. He sat there long into the night.
Thinking. Blowing. Drinking.

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