" 'The bird that would soar above the level plain of tradition and prejudice must have strong wings. It is a sad spectacle to see the weaklings bruised, exhausted, flutering back to earth.' " -The Awakening
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.