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I'm little, red headed mess, more hair than mass or sense. All I really want to do is make something magical and show the world and have it be proud of me.

Wednesday, 11 February 2009


The snow is beautiful, the way it gathers and wilts the flower petals, the way it covers the bumpy gravel evenly, the way its covered my feet, frosted the eye-lashes framing my wide eyes and how its somehow dampened the inside of my slightly ajar lips in the few hours I’ve been standing here in shell-shock. It’s so beautiful it makes me want to look up to the heavy purple sky and laugh out loud. Or cry. I don’t know which.

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