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wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com

wisps of melancholy: August 2013

http://wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com/2013_08_01_archive.html

And she sits in the empty room in silence amidst the disarray. A letter read in your voice. The shadows offer no solace. And the silence worse. Like a searing pain. That never keeps me sane. Your voice reverberates in my head. A nightmare in my bed. Uttering familiar words,. Old loves and solemn whispers. I lie in stolid helplessness. As this feeling passes. Tomorrow I will burn your letters. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). I love polaroids, books, vintage, poetry and traveling. City girl, country girl.

wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com

wisps of melancholy: September 2013

http://wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com/2013_09_01_archive.html

And she sits in the empty room in silence amidst the disarray. No waves how hard it roll to shores. No will how hard a captain pleads. Could steer away the boat sails. Of a heart that is mine for always. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). I love polaroids, books, vintage, poetry and traveling. She was a person you would not be surprised to find sitting by herself in a corner of the world where she didn't belong, writing things in a notebook to prevent the rise of panic. Alice Munro, Friend of my Youth.

moodystranger.wordpress.com

The Stranger – j'adore & more

https://moodystranger.wordpress.com/the-stranger

J'adore and more. A wee corner of favorites things by @rouenna}. Where silence is palpable between spaces and stars, a mind seeks little worlds, little supernovas out of time. I love trinkets, handmade pieces, vintage, sea shells, old letters, carousel, trunk of treasures and medieval towns. This is a wee corner of my favorite things, a little backstreet away from my main avenue, Solitary Spirit. Also, myself elsewhere,. Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com

wisps of melancholy: June 2013

http://wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com/2013_06_01_archive.html

And she sits in the empty room in silence amidst the disarray. Little doses of daydreams. Of late, my mind has somewhat become less lucid and less blurry. Unintended, I have begun, sporadically, to miss the haziness and the dreamy state of being adrift. (But in real life, these things must pass us by or we end up slaves to the call of the mist). Photos. rebekah campbell. But a day comes when a song full of raw lamentation unwittingly draws them out and they all surface in a huge wave of prism before my e...

wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com

wisps of melancholy: April 2013

http://wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com/2013_04_01_archive.html

And she sits in the empty room in silence amidst the disarray. I have a deeply hidden and inarticulate desire for something beyond the daily life.". My friends and I happen to be book lovers (which was a delight to discover when we first knew each other) and made a new corner. On making book conversations over a cup of coffee or tea, whichever you like. I hope you could check it out. I should say it is still a premature blog and is a bit rough around the edges but we're getting there. I am a moon child.

wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com

wisps of melancholy: May 2015

http://wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com/2015_05_01_archive.html

And she sits in the empty room in silence amidst the disarray. Drift to me in strips. People come to speak to me. But i only see silent moving lips. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). I love polaroids, books, vintage, poetry and traveling. She was a person you would not be surprised to find sitting by herself in a corner of the world where she didn't belong, writing things in a notebook to prevent the rise of panic. Alice Munro, Friend of my Youth. City girl, country girl. Deluged with books cafe.

wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com

wisps of melancholy: October 2013

http://wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com/2013_10_01_archive.html

And she sits in the empty room in silence amidst the disarray. Scattered bitterness (the aftermath, one). They rustle like drapes of ghosts passing by. Wringing themselves into bitter streaks of dust. In the cold grim floor they lie. Like remnants in the air of forgotten lust. They lap up my soul in ways I cannot deny. Till this coiling anger threatens to com bust. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). I love polaroids, books, vintage, poetry and traveling. Alice Munro, Friend of my Youth. City girl, country girl.

wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com

wisps of melancholy: faraway

http://wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com/2015/05/faraway.html

And she sits in the empty room in silence amidst the disarray. Drift to me in strips. People come to speak to me. But i only see silent moving lips. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). I love polaroids, books, vintage, poetry and traveling. She was a person you would not be surprised to find sitting by herself in a corner of the world where she didn't belong, writing things in a notebook to prevent the rise of panic. Alice Munro, Friend of my Youth. City girl, country girl. Deluged with books cafe.

wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com

wisps of melancholy: song and poem

http://wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com/2014/12/song-and-poem.html

And she sits in the empty room in silence amidst the disarray. What a hauntingly beautiful song and the lyrics read like a poem. These few days, the leaden corners of my mind are somewhat drowned by the frazzles of the holiday spirit. But I listen to this and I am floating in the realm of pensiveness again. Broken skies, heartaches that flowers won't mend. Say goodbye knowing that this is the end. Tender dreams, shadows fall. Love too sweet, to recall. Dry your eyes, face the dawn. Life will go on. All t...