Ever since I was young, I was always known as a night owl. At the age of 10, 9pm was my bed time. My parents would watch TV downstairs whilst I rummaged around my room. I have boxes of nick-nacks under my bed. I use to love sorting through them, looking through my treasures. I use to colour in books and start little projects. I use to love it. I loved to shut the door and be in my own private vessel where I could not be seen, where I was alone and safe. There was a thrill about it. I do look back to the 'good old days', when I had that sort of time to myself.A beautiful post, my dearest.Much love <3
the other night I was feeling nostalgic, in pain over something happening in my relationship, but mostly just questioning myself and my choices and how on earth I ended up where I am. I hadn't sat and listened to music and just FELT THINGS for nearly a year. I sat on my bed and cried and felt happy and alive and listened to all my old songs from my (likewise insomnia ridden) teenage years. I hadn't realised how much I had missed being that ALONE and totally FREE. Loved this post, I totally feel you xxhttp://thepersephonecomplex.blogspot.co.uk/
Your words are magic. And so so true.
Love this!Only the moment...
Hey you´ve a great blog!Please check out mine and if you want we can follow each otherhere on bloglovin and via GFC?Let me know, now it´s your turn.xoxohttp://www.styleshower.com
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