February 2012
“I had a friend, a lover. Or did I dream it? So many dreams are crowding upon me...”
– Anna Kavan, Asylum Piece (via awritersruminations)
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The Enormous Crocodile by Roald Dahl.
- A passage...
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Lonely tired head. Today it felt like Spring.
moledro
n. a feeling of resonant connection with an author or artist you’ll never meet, who may have lived centuries ago and thousands of miles away but can still get inside your head and leave behind morsels of their experience, like the little piles of stones left by hikers that mark a hidden path through unfamiliar territory.
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For Ana.
February: I have been wondering where all the lost leaves of Autumn go, does the wind sweep them up in her arms and keep them for her own company? I have often been feeling as lost as those leaves do and I wish that she would carry me away too; to float, or perhaps dance under the nights sky with the other souls made of sadness. I have also been wondering what to call the kind of love...
thelovelybirdsclub asked: Your blog is like an enchanted attic full of treasures and old memories! A truly wonderful place!! xx
theunabridgedjournal:
I wanted to teach you what the Spring time taught the flowers.
parsley-sage-rosemary-thyme asked: thank you for following me back! your words are lovely dear xx
Tonight there is an ache inside that wants to hear your lost words again (just once more). I have tried to write letters that cannot be sent. I have tried talking to the night, the wind, the ghosts living inside my head. I have tried hiding under the sheets of the bed (I will never learn that it shall never be a friend). I have tried to capture laughter; to let it float around the house like...