Looking at things from the ground up aka these are a few of my favourite things. Asymp; Leave a comment. Originally posted on These Wings Can Fly. But then, of course, we should not judge what someone else likes.

Fine Art from Austin, Texas by Robert McArthur. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Create a free website or blog at WordPress. Get every new post delivered to your Inbox. Build a website with WordPress.

and some silliness here and there. What is a death? June 7, 2014.

PS I Still Love You. The genre is Young Adult. This book was published in 2015 by Simon and Schuster. Jenny Han was born and raised in Richmond, Virginia. She also authored other books, one that is popular is the summer series. High school drama, love letters, goody-two-shoes main character, she bakes and play parent role to her kid sis.

A technical post exploring simple harmonic motion. We are always on hand to answer any questions.

I had a dental appointment this morning, a semiannual cleaning that takes a lot out of me due to my sensory sensitivities. Today, because part of my new years mission is to spread more Autism awareness, I told my secret. Even more I hated myself for my response to the comment. In my mind we shared some under.

The Writings of an Aspiring Cadaver. 8220; Terrek the Epic Bastard. Some time later, long after the lurid green sun had disappeared over the ridges of the Poontang Mountains, Terrek and his faithful dildo unicorn arrived at the city gates. They were smeared with steaming shit stains.

Poetry, free verse, haiku, senryu, photography, books, art, philosophy , nature. Looking for harvest gold rainbows. Reflections in gurgling brooks, streams. Trees preparing to bare their soul. Cascading leaves russet, brown fold. To lay down a carpet of gold. A nip in the air warmness stole. Nature hibernates as I stroll. An old favourite of mine.

Words helping us unwind! The Holidays, 2017 Reading Challenge, and To A Better Year Ahead! January 3, 2017.

The curse of a sentimental heart and a skeptical mind. I lean into the stillness. I embrace the dense cloud cover. It raises a dome of seclusion,. We are cut off from. The rest of the world. I hum to the feeble tune. And walk to the timing. Of redundant traffic lights,. Whose warning is lost on.