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If a story is in you, it has got to come out- William Faulkner. If Walt was a color, he would be a rainbow. Because there are many different aspects that can be taken away from his poetry and his poetry often has a deeper sense of meaning. If Walt was a food, he would be a salad.
By a Windswept Wandering Soul. And nailed it together,. And hung it in the gallery,. He smiled as he tilted it,. 8220;It is very good. For it never quite belonged. But when the Artist passed,. For he saw the secret. Sounds of a Sunday Morning.
Disiecti membra poeta The limbs of a dismembered poet. Horsehair Strings and The Sea. Horsehair Strings and The Sea. These mountains you are carrying you are only supposed to climb. Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. A Year In Street Signs. Yield to the reality that you may not be able to control all as.
Every day creates a different me. I remember turning 16 on December 30, 2015. You came right after two days later. In this way, you have been changing your numbers to fit mine for 17 years now. The blank slate which can also be really scary.
It is the time to Fly. I am one of the many teenagers of this ever growing world. I have an insane mix of passions ranging from music, to engineering, to writing. There is a lot of joy in my life because of these three things.
Memories that will forever be lodged in my brain. One thousand lessons learned, one thousand. Pieces of chocolate eaten- at least. Ted talks and crash courses watched while baking cookies, lying on the ground, procrastinating and cramming for tests. Glorious days at the beach. Family members with whom I fight ev.
Wherever you are, be the soul of that place. How would you sum up 2016? For me, my 2016 can be summed up by the musicals I listened to. To love another person is to see the face of God Les Misérables. Now is the time to seize the day Newsies. Y si pierdas mis huellas que Dios te bendiga, respira In the Heights. I am 16 going on 17 The Sound of Music.
The presents, the money? December 4, 2016.
The hopes of beginnings, middles and vestiges. It does not stand, and no, it does not sit. It lies, more in sorrow than in silence. Its body is cast upon the sharp edges of my conscious; more abstract than thought.
Yesterday, the organization I work for had a huge dinner. The dinner itself was actually not very unhealthy. Chicken, asparagus and potatoes. Overall yummy and I avoided the rolls so felt good about my decisions. Do I regret it? Actually no.
A new blogging adventure has just begun. I have nominated your blog for the Real Neat Blog award. More about this nomination is at.
Forgot Password or Username? Not an artist, but a work of art. Not an artist, but a work of art.