1. Wrinkled Pages

skin mellows to the faint smell of soap, and everything becomes silent.
i hear nothing but the ice outside, and habitual buzzing inside my head.
too habitual to be dubbed a noise.


i spend my snow day surrounded by books and work.
and my thoughts, of course.


maybe i should start one last blog?
one where i try to substitute photographs with imagery.
or maybe i can take a daily photo to add unto short messages.


everyday. i must blog everyday.


something, to change the mood.
everything has been looking deep grey lately...
that must change... i must change
into what i presume is a better human being.


why not let others join the ride in this vintage convertible?
i attempted to make a tumblr,
sharing my hopes and dreams to be worn in, and lovely.
but no one cares, and it's a hassle to maintain.


so i shall more-than-likely start another blog.
a blog aspiring to be beautiful.


just like me, aspiring and whatnot.


done.