I have a new writing pad and I intend to use it. From now on Sunday’s are for writing. A table by the window until it’s warm enough to sit outside. 

Beautiful morning. Nice day for a wedding. 

First real signs of change in my garden. So looking forward to spring. Going to try my hand at growing flowers for cutting this year. I want flowers everywhere! 

Beautiful wedding 😥 

Peonies they don’t bloom for long. 

It feels like the past couple of months have been leading me somewhere, but I’m still slightly lost.

Picking over the bones of it for guidance. The leaves still fell and the new shoots grew. Memories I’ve kept a few. 

The world didn’t end, but I felt it jolt. Someone else’s momentum bringing life to a halt. Out of my hands. 

I’ve tried….fuck I’ve almost begged, but I’m done. So the words that humbled you will always be yours, to have and to hold. The ink remains wet infinitely. 

Beautiful morning.  The birdsong so vibrant. Spring is close. 

Friday thoughts: Some people make promises as easily as they break them. Don’t count on those people to be there, your happiness isn’t in their plans. 

I have a wedding to go to tomorrow. I have to buy shoes….I can’t find anything I like. Barefoot? 

I am aware when you’re near me. How my mind changes track in an instant. Blurred lines, crossed. 

I would capture your heart if I had the strength, if I though it would make any sense, but sense left me longing. 

Longing to feel your hands on my hips. Longing to taste you on my lips…Are you for real does this even exist.

I feel you. Restrained, but I want to.

…..what changes a person completely. Their morals, their beliefs, the food they eat, the company they keep. 

Pretence is a peculiar game, like you’ve outgrown yourself, in a few months time you’ll be someone else.

Some actors get paid a fortune, some perform for free. Some play it deep and meaningful, some masks are harder to see. 

Even the most obvious of callings can’t avert my heart. I’m flattered by your attention, but I’m too submerged to take part. 
I am bound to my emotions, tied up in every word. 

I miss it. I miss being able to focus with enough depth to write it down. I miss those hours where the words seemed infinite.  
Only in the shadows will colours be deep enough to match those that shone so brilliantly in your light. 

I need a holiday. 
I’ve got odd socks on. 

Souvenir cork from August. 

When you rejoin Twitter, every automated DM that you ever had….you get again.

Last day on my old timetable today. Four days off now and then new timetable from Monday. Might regret this decision.

Someone put cows milk in my coffee 😥 I wasn’t aware.