blu2f7x
Turbines. I think of engines spinning up, machines making noise in the dull cities with smoke coming out. Industry. Cold, dark, grey, bleak. Unromantic in a way, honestly. But they do create energy. They create life.
The sunlight was warm and soft, reflecting in the windows of the Chemistry room where I spent my second period. It would prove to be the source of comfort for many weeks to come as I sat down and heard the teacher go through her many lectures, not understanding a word she meant.
When I think of jazz, I think of wild parties, of people dressed up in fancy dresses that allude to the height of sophistication. It's a glamorous time with an economic boom where people either waste their lives away or somehow just have fun.
Trains are a lovely way to visit the countryside and go, removed far away from the dullness of American suburbia. For some reason, I never associate trains with America, as I have never been on one.
He always wears collars, perhaps a symbol of his own repression and the fact that he is caged in a prison made by himself, one where he is only forced to smile at people and keep his feelings to himself in fear of ostracism and rejection.
writing since 2009 · 26 entries · 24 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Sabrina showed up.
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the words Sabrina reaches for
averagesometimesawakeningenergylostherselfwordpropellingcollarshairfacthimselfnowtrainslovelybravery