I'm in Boston for the weekend and I see little things everywhere that inspire something somewhere, little flickers of things that make me look twice and go "huh," but I can't.... formulate. That's not to say previous writings had been created and crafted with care and planning... and that's not to say I even know what BIG WURDZ LIEK "formulate" and "planning" mean, since they are so far from the Dictionary of Words Kayla Knows Anything About. BUT. It's there, but it's not THERE. WTH, IKNORITE?
Aaaaaanyway, there are many lovely things here, and manymany strange and frightening-in-the-best-way people, but nothing is sparked from that except little grunted thoughts like "Daa...huh. How neat."
So. I LAAAMENT OVER THIS, NONEXISTANTREADERS/MYSELF-WHO-IS-THE-ONLY-PERSON-I-WRITE-THESE-RITUALISTIC-BITCHINGS-TO.
For now, though, I will continue to observe stealthily and creepily for the remainder of my time here, since my loner soul calls for it. I just wish that creepy soul would saunter up to Mr. Muse and be like, "SUP REMEMBER THE COOL SHIT WE USED TO DO TOGETHER I MISS IT YO." Sigh.



--
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty," - that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
J. Keats
--
I have a pocket sun boy
I\'m everything that burns in you...
can already tell you're amazing.
--
(there's no testimony without the test, and what
we do with our own is our own damn business...)
thank you very much
lmao.
--
Enrico G. Agostoni | 2009 - [link]
My Gallery: [link]
--
Enrico G. Agostoni | 2009 - [link]
My Gallery: [link]
Previous Page12Next Page