disclaimer: with postcards that I have made, I include part my notes from my phone. they`re usually sad.
I really want to cry. No, no, I want to live in a nice, cosy apartment with someone I love ( I hope I’ll love him a lot) and I hope he will love me a lot. And I’ll paint every day and he will sing to me and we will make a lot of good food together. Nothing will be unpleasant and my room will always be warm and the apartment will be flooded of a pleasant scent. warm feet tapping. Green tones take over my brain and I know, I know I am simply tired but this sleepiness lets my mind flow and travel into a trance of thoughts. Putting dots into this text takes some of my breath away, it is so hard, like a small push on my lungs. Putting all my thoughts on paper makes it look like poetry when it ` s really not and I feel like I sound like that annoying poet from today. I want to read and dance more.