Saturday, April 23, 2016

where the birds sing.

god.

it's so beautiful right now. I can see a rickety fence with the latch broken, overgrown foliage hugging the fence, and a distant dairy farm pixellated by the little window of which im looking through. i love living in a tent. there is nothing more freeing than waking up to a million birds singing. well, maybe sleeping under a "wolf sun" is also way up there on the list of "places i feel  most free." Anyway, the tent is orange and white, like an orange creamsicle, and big and airy like a rich folk's house but cosy enough to want to sleep in. 

i wish you were here. it gets cold during the night and awfully scary in the darkness with only the mooing of cows for comfort: it would be a lot warmer with your cuddles. i'm just saying...

Be here, instead of there, please? :)

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