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| [Daydreaming;xo] |
Together or alone, I will run away.
Paris, London, New York.
My cheap, bohemian abode with it's bare brick walls, and worn wooden floors will tell the stories and secrets of beatnik dreams and steamy, artistic nights. No furniture will cramp my mind. Just piles of dusty books and cushions and huge pot-plants dancing on the naked floor. Out the window, the bustling streets crawling with untold tales, the Eiffel Tower in all it's severe beauty, or a glittering skyline painted on it's empty sky.
I'd soak up life and spread it on bare canvas, or watching it through the lens of a camera. I'd spend nights in hidden haunts and smokey basement clubs, listening to anonymous bands and dancing with strangers until the sun arrives. Days would be filled with wine and poetry, and old books in small cafes, while the world passes.
My life; My plan; My dream.
Wish me luck.
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