It is a warm cosy night and somewhere far away I can hear a cricket and a woodpecker composing a happy symphony. Lets try that again. It is an undeniably boring night and mother nature could not decide whether to have a cold or a warm night, which in
Small talk is not my forte, or any talk even. I take pride in sitting and listening and observing. I can also write on some occasions. Which is just another way of saying, by the time a thought casually creeps in my head and starts to form itself into an idea, the time is up, [...]
Do not silently creep into my life, like a ghost in the night Do not glide. Come with thunder and maybe storm So I may feel things that I haven’t felt in so long a time. For after all, we both know it is all downhill from there.