The Art of Falling ::Pt.01She dipped her naked feet into the gray water that reflected a blank sky, seems it had nothing to say.The Art of Falling ::Pt.01
April was one of her favorite times, the reason was unclear, to her but most things were better of unexplained anyway. The wind touched her in a warmer sense then it had all winter, call it spring fever if you wish. She was anything but sick though and a fever is hardly how you'd describe the jittering of her insides.
Something was different.
Something would change.
This time it works out.
This time, the ship comes in.
She thought the same thing every April e
The Art of Falling ::PrologueShe never seemed to mind the cold that touched her cheeks and stained them wine red with a certain strain of disconcerting immaturity. She embraced the wind and extending her arms to the silvery wisps of fog that rolled in from the sea, a smell of salt dripped from that air.The Art of Falling ::Prologue
Its seems her off-brand silk lines of love and lust were cast out onto the vast waters like fisherman nets, reeling back in empty handed at days end.
Her eyes were wide like portholes of lolling ships, window into or out of her mind and its hysterics. With ringing ears she heard what their tiny whispers carried, they called her 'crazy', they sai
when i read your journal on quizilla i ZOOMED over here! ahahah.
welcome again, hun.
--
a dream you dream alone is just a dream. a dream you dream together is a reality. - john lennon.
--
i'm coming down
bring me up
take it off
let's just touch
[metro station]
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