They're just old men, like on the benches in the park
the wind sighs deeply, as a long awaited love breathing deeply in the night beside you. and yet, now it rushes and with a feverish whisper it pulls you with it, come, it says come run away with me
My dad once called me 'an independent soul' and I reckon he's fairly right, most of the time. I like to think that im weird, but I'm not sure about that one anymore. Often I feel like the girl in the glass of water, stuck floating around in this tiny little glass of a life, trying to break out into something more, and this blog is about my doing it. It contains random thoughts, stories and things i feel express me and my thoughts at the time, whether they be mine or someone elses words, or art, mine or others.
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