A certain death.

Sometimes I would like forget. Erase my memory and all I have seen, all I have been. But there is no point wishing; just have to continue living. Right now it feels, as though; my brain has deteriorated and dripped out of my head down to my spine, passing tumultuously,like swallowing a rock right through my stomach and straight to my toes. Then it seeps out all ten toes through the snow; into the earth. And then it fucking freezes, latching itself onto the earth like a prey in the claws of a snowy owl on a winter's night; where there is no looking back.

Never forget the certain death; the timely death expected in the depth of yourself.

Two Winter's Nights

Two Winter's Nights:

A Story

"He stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking."

-Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina

1. Happy Henmas gift exchange (Club, stationary, tea, Tolstoy, and russian brow brushes) 2.  A novel.  3. Mashed sweet potatoes, blackberry avocado salad with candied walnuts, and bbq tofu supper. 4.  The Nutcracker at RWB.   5.  A sad girl with a sore tailbone.  6.  Speed skaters across a lit bridge.  7. Skates. 8.  Frosty friends.   9.  Winter layers and Bear the cat.   10.  The city falling into night.

Then who the hell was I

The time has come, where winter's coolness has effected the skin, but the sun bleeds right down on me, picking me up where ice runs thin. Grab several layers of sweaters, scarves, and woolen socks; bring all your favorite books, and come hideaway all day (all night).