i tied a thread to the end of a ballon, the thread was long with no end, the baloon flew away with taking the bread, the bread fell down and hit my head, i laughed on myself as i didnt found the end.
Sumedh
i tied a thread to the end of a ballon, the thread was long and almost infinite trying to find the end of the thread, the baloon flew away with taking the bread, the bread fell down and hit my head, i laughed on myself as i found the thread
Sumedh
I never did learn how to stitch. It seems so simple, weaving a thread in and out, with a small knot at the end to seal it off
the thread from my sweater led back into the forest. I don’t know how it got there, because I had not entered the forest, only in my dreams, but the dreams seem to be calling me back from my dream life from my ‘real’ life. Which is real? Should I follow the thread?
Pull the thread and the fabric puckers, little stitches toddling like a baby, little steps, little steps, big fall, and then back up again
i tied a thread to the end of a ballon, the thread was long with no end, the baloon flew away with taking the bread, the bread fell down and hit my head, i laughed on myself as i didnt found the end.
i tied a thread to the end of a ballon, the thread was long and almost infinite trying to find the end of the thread, the baloon flew away with taking the bread, the bread fell down and hit my head, i laughed on myself as i found the thread
I never did learn how to stitch. It seems so simple, weaving a thread in and out, with a small knot at the end to seal it off
the thread from my sweater led back into the forest. I don’t know how it got there, because I had not entered the forest, only in my dreams, but the dreams seem to be calling me back from my dream life from my ‘real’ life. Which is real? Should I follow the thread?