scripted-vision
Roar. Let it out. Scream all your frustrations, insecurities -- secrets... Into the wind.
All by themselves. Thinking, sitting, waiting. But what for? Ahh - It is what we all wait for...That undiscovered purpose for the tick inside one's chest. Some call it Love.
The ground whispered up to the travelers. Dainty heels, tall boots, worn sneakers. All told their story. And the cold concrete shared of those who had been there before.
writing since 2012 · 3 entries · 3 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Tasha showed up.
2longest streak
3days written
4.2entries / week
the words Tasha reaches for
groundwhisperedtravelersdaintyheelstallbootswornsneakersstorycoldconcretesharedthemselvesthinkingsitting