July 19, 2015

Ariadne, by Roanna Fernandes

I thought this would be really good to document. It is one of the many things that I liked doing best... Writing stories! Jotting down notes, doodling in my journal, et cetera. Oh, and I prefer writing with gel-based pens. You know... The kind that makes your curves flawless? Or more artistic, I am not sure? I think I pride myself too much on having such ideas. It makes me feel good about myself.

Now that I have decided to make more conscious changes in my life, I feel better. The steps aren't as painful, and my shoes don't pinch my toes as much. It is important to get here, I think... It really is. I believe it so much more now. I see things clearly... Especially on a day like today. This is a token of thanks! Much as I like mazes, it is rather delightful to come out of one - battered, bruised but brighter, brilliant.

May 08, 2015

stories - fifteen

What do you do with love that can be felt?
What do you do with love that can't be spoken of?
What do you do with love that can't be shared?
What do you do with love that can't be broken?
What do you do with love that makes your heart smile?
What do you do with love that nobody wants?
What do you with love that's just hanging?
What do you with love that's silent?
What do you do with love that's strange?
What do you with love that's bursting to be let out?
What do you do with love?
What do you do with love?
What do you do with love?
What do you do with love?

May 07, 2015

stories - fourteen

She giggled, and pointed...
You look so funny!
That hair on you...
Hahahahahaha.
Why did you get it cut like that?
He made a sad face.
You're stupid.
And you're cute.
She grabbed his hand and squeezed.

stories - thirteen

Waiting.
She was waiting.
She had been there, almost everyday.
Ordering the same cup of double espresso,
and was waiting...
She was observant.
Loved to look around.
Make up stories in her head.
She was waiting, really though.
That's all she was doing,
as she sat by herself looking at magazines.