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My style, My stories, My mind. Red Silk Murders episode 15. A glimpse of June 11th. A touch of my saint! Allie Simpson Creative - Storyteller and Artist. Dream Big, Dream Often.
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php? A bumpy landing for a turbulent flight. The aircraft was dark and quiet, only my dry mouth and restless fingers showed any signs of life. Were there any other flights landing at that ungodly time? Bag One.
A silver boy he is,. Mini version of the father of the nation,. Loin cloth around his waist and bare footed he sat,. With the standard steel rimmed spectacles and a dirty green cap on his head,. Keeping his fast all day, excepting for a bottle of water,. Sitting on a dirty crowded street, amidst the loud noise of vehicles,. His only aim, to earn a note of the man he is dressed up as. Second Chances and Midnight Ramblings. And then there are other.
She turned her feelings and thoughts into words. I am nothing but a keeper of your vanity. The door to your forgotten history. I am that broken window pane. When you tried to escape from your piercing reality. I am your mirror the reflection of your broken smile. I am nothing but your conscience. Your painful karma for every pack of lies. I am nothing but your nuisance. As I disconnected all lines that bridge our thoughts.
Then I just start exploring the city and go out despite the rain. Nothing could stop me as long as I had a cap with me. Posted in Wonders of Scotland. Beauty Blogger, Versatile Blogger and Premio Dardos Awards.
Reflects from your skin;. One of those dreams,. As there are stars,.
There used to be one god. How arduous to speak it. It can even turn back time. Breaking of bondage from belief. It is praying with palms joined. And praying with open palms. And being happy with it.
There may be some strife as you go through life, but there will be no sorrow if we fight for a better tomorrow. Evergreen grass that shines with. Four plates cover the circular dining table. As the aroma of fettuccini alfredo fills the room. Behind me the sound of the television blares. Of another crime, another scandal, another mishap. A time to eat used to be where people could come. Together and break bread like at a Catholic mass. Or more parenting than neglecting.
Some more words of inspiration or thought for the writers who enjoy them. Where my words come from. That gleamed in the eyes. Her locks of golden hair. That gently rose and fell.
Je vous laise trouver ma personnalité. Et c a vous de juger. Abonne-toi à mon blog! Mes plus belle photo.
Kes tu veu, kes ji peu.
OKhere I try again to keep this a bit updated.
P lus le temps passe et plus.