sometimes I feel like writing something, but at tthe same time it seems to much of a trouble. nothing is really happening an it scares me a bit. should I let it go or take a grab of it.. don't want to be Hamlet. i'll try to keep it hemingwayish simple.
it's foggy outside. Bianca gone winterfishing to the other end of the country. and i'm just stuck at home, cooking occasionally (and still not making pictures of it.. habe to improve myself), reading up for my classe and listening for the piano radio.. quite settled outside, a bit unsettled inside, if you know what i mean.
No comments:
Post a Comment