porcelain or glass? watching the sunset on a airy balcony or waking up beneath soft beddings? jewelry or armor? a serene, tall, marble columned temple or an enigmatic, hidden, forest wooden mansion? living under the quiet, ethereal ocean without any source of light but the sun, or living above, where there’s never dark and everything is possible? harp music or cello arias? forever or again? key to all answers or the pass for traveling anywhere? hope or acceptance?
tag yourself ; cities
paris - soft smiles, blooming flowers, lots of sunlight, stories swirling in your mind, cursive letters, piercing eyes, whispers filled with secrets
new york - gives zero fucks about others’ opinions, perfect eyebrows, no sleep, a bit sad inside, huge equal rights activist, red lipstick, artsy af, string lights, lots of coffee, high waisted jeans
london - new ideas, old architecture, a soft voice, flickering candles, intelligent eyes, loud laughter, dancing alone in your room, big dreams, hot tea
montréal - comfy socks, french bakeries, lover of books, bold thoughts, wide smiles, kinda broken, cute jackets, warm hot chocolate, cobblestone streets
tokyo - aesthetic af, pen sketches, bright colors, bold fashion, small yet powerful smiles, striving for greatness, cute glasses
rome - loves museums, kind words, tangled earbuds, a bit in love, bright eyes, artsy photos, likes history, open windows, probably sings in the shower
someone: what are your plans for the weekend
me: who knows
me: (i know)
me: (i’m not leaving the house)
“I wonder if you talked about me, as you went home, or thought of me when the moon rose,”
— Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Vanessa Bell written c. August 1908
