appearancesit kills me to knowthere's a face under that maskthat i've never seen.
from the diary of michaeli met a girl named lucy once. she had long chocolate brown hair that split at the ends and a defeated smile. her eyes changed color - from blue to green to hazel to sad. she had bitten nails and peeled skin.lucy lived across the street and two doors over. at night she would much-too-often leave her blinds open. i tried not to peek but every so often as i passed my window, i'd notice her on the phone or reading the last few pages of 1984 [i counted her do this six or seven times] or looking out her window at the starless nights.i was only fifteen back then. i was just the son of the man who screamed at his wife night after night, who hid i
anneliesemayshe is the kind of girl who, quite literally, stops to smell the roses. her hair is blowing in the wind - long and brown and sort of thin. she lets it blow over her face and doesn't care to push it out of her eyes; a little more obscurity to her vision could do no harm. she carries with her a jar of misfits, with daisies that don't seem right, acorns missing their tops, the tabs on the top of soda cans. i want so badly to know how her mind races, and what she sees in things that others forget to.junei am the boy who sits on concrete outside of the public library. i read the tattered old books that nobody seems to be able to acknowledge
quiet momentssome inspiring and gorgeous work to get your mind running.please give the artists the attention that they truly deserve for their incredible work.:thumb14