Lady, your room is lousy with flowers.
When you kick me out, that’s what I’ll remember,
Me, sitting here bored as a loepard… 289 more words
There are spaces of time which are floating in suspense, flowing far away from the present time, even from the distant place where they occurred, the memories of that, liminal, shifting, causing drift in heart, reminding how isolation can be vital – that interstice in space where time does not exist anymore, the tectonic shift of seashore line, which is always moving along as our perception goes broader, high above the horizon. 115 more words
There’s a pattern I’ve consistently noticed in classes (or online forums) revolving around evaluating literature: when people interpret works solely based on events from the author’s life. 428 more words
I stood in front of the mirror with my Splat hair dye. I was going pink this time. For good. I was sure this was the color for me, just like I was sure of green and blue before. 1,416 more words