You know some days, you just stop seeing the beauty in things? The rustic glamour of times long past just can't catch up with you anymore. Erm, can't catch up with me anymore, at least. I think I need to slow down.


I know the forceful method doesn't always work, but sometimes it does, and while in this case it could hurt to try, I still need to try. My teenage years are not going to be wasted on fat regret-ish angst, and I have to make things work. Facades won't do.


So I'll literally re-embrace the love of the valleys and mountains and fountains, and I hope they'll take me back.


Gondola on a postcard, snake in a tree cranny, squirrel in the autumn leaves.


They're not just words.


We gotta see the beauty!


beautybeautybeauty


ohmygosh, I could go on forever.


Maybe I shall.


I've been thinking this since last week, I can't define a proper date or day. Let's go to the suburbs.
Harvard
Oxford
all those lovely places
shoo.


Let's go see the squirrels and larks.


Pocahontas.


I never said I wanted to stop being a kid.


Reproach me if I blog.


Because I've made up my mind not to.


At least, no, discipline isn't the way.


Think journal-esque, free, open, no back constrained in aches.


FLY AWAY FREEEE.


could you all hope for me?
wish me luck
or faith
or hope


and maybe I'll be back like I used to.