#28

In their silent screams for individuality, they really all became the same; only the tonal differences of their voices is what helped separate one from the other.

#27

It was a budding romance; she loved to plant flowers, and he loved to take pictures of them.

Perfect.

#26

In the years of darkness, what she wanted most was for someone to listen to her muffled screams; her cries of unspoken desperation.

#25

Soft whispers of blue amidst ominous colours of grey.
(15.3.2012)

#24

Green fields, grey skies, bright blue eyes staring into my soul for all of eternity.
(10.3.2012)

#23

Different shades of green and grey. Sunny, cloudy, gorgeous day.
(10.3.2012)

#22

The indefinable smell that caressed the room - a perfume, though mayhap more of a cologne - brought forth such a crashing wave of heavy nostalgia. Such a crashing indeed, as I had never experienced such force behind a vague emotion like this one. It was nostalgia for things that had been, and yet, had never. Almost as if I were desiring something that does not exist in this world, but in fact, is real. And if not in this world, than at least another. And the emotions that it tugged to surface…it made me want to weep uncontrollably…both with heavy sorrow, and great joy.