

Untitled Segment 1It is not an unusual thing, to lose sleep, especially when what we fear most travels during the midnight hours. The night is such an unwelcoming time for sleep, anyways; the air is always so cold, so damp, doubly so for those that reside along the sea, like myself. The sea is, after all, such a wretched thing. From the milky white sands of the shore, the ocean may seem as though it meant no harm, but it fools you. Its trickery is ghastly, horrid by any man's standards. It coaxes you with its repetitive crashing, lulling you into a foolish state indistinguishable from mere relaxation. Its smell, salty and pure so that you may never forget it.Untitled Segment 1
--
.:: Fate is a diabolic hand at work playing chess with our lives ::.
--
And love the sound of you walking away, you walking away
--
~ Under my umbrella ~ Ella ella eh eh eh ~
Sorry, my english sux .-.''
nice gallery~
--
ERES SANGRE TIBIA Y YO, ME SIENTO VIVO!
--
This world is full of hopes for whomever wants to believe in this dreamy, sparkling, tiny miracle called life. Worth living any kind of now, with living fully and loving truly unconditionally. And all is one. 3 9 9 3 9 3 3 6 9 .
Previous Page12Next Page