Escape into my inner sanctum;
Where the days are longer and the nights are brighter,
A place that the world can speak without words or indications;
Where we can sleep and not be disturbed,
Somewhere that can heal even the deepest of wounds;
Like broken bones and broken hearts
Or depression and desperation;
A place of wonder and joy,
Of hope and luck;
Someplace that we can give up and face no consequences,
A place that is right and wrong at the same time,
But no one cares because it’s
The inner sanctum.
Drift into my inner sanctum;
Where we can have fun with no limit,
A place where the sun shines without objections;
Someplace that can h
Scent
I’ve always wondered why the smell of rose water intoxicated me. To everyone I’ve met, they’ve all thought that the smell of it was harsh and too strong. It was a perfect thing to me though, and I just didn’t understand them as much as I would’ve liked. The fragrance of the rose, full and vibrant, it’s like I can see it. It’s like the petals are right in front of me, begging me to take a whiff of their powerful scent. I don’t think that it’s the rose that makes me adore it so much, it’s the smells that seem to come from it. All that’s in the bottle is water and rose, but
Rain, it’s been a long time since I’ve felt it. The sun is so hot in the sky that all of the clouds are afraid of it. I am not afraid of something that brings life to us, but that’s not all, is it. The rain brings life to us, and without it, we will die. Without it now, it will bring poor fortune to us. It is what you call a drought, but in this time, it is now called something else. It’s called a Wednesday, perfectly normal in our everyday lives.
Yet it’s not normal, of course it’s not normal. Day by day, it seems as if I’m the only person who waits for the rain, sitting on my balcony, leaning over
“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.”
-Edgar Allan Poe
Sometimes, I lay in my bed, tossing and turning, waiting for the sun to rise over the horizon and greet me. It never does, and I’m left in darkness until sleep engulfs me. When I open my eyes, I can hear the soft sound of birds chirping, the glow of the morning seeping in through my half closed window. The light creates a suspicious, oddly-shaped circle on my bed, tainting the dirty white sheets with its perfection.
Life is the same every day; wake, eat, sleep, wake, ea
Escape into my inner sanctum;
Where the days are longer and the nights are brighter,
A place that the world can speak without words or indications;
Where we can sleep and not be disturbed,
Somewhere that can heal even the deepest of wounds;
Like broken bones and broken hearts
Or depression and desperation;
A place of wonder and joy,
Of hope and luck;
Someplace that we can give up and face no consequences,
A place that is right and wrong at the same time,
But no one cares because it’s
The inner sanctum.
Drift into my inner sanctum;
Where we can have fun with no limit,
A place where the sun shines without objections;
Someplace that can h
Scent
I’ve always wondered why the smell of rose water intoxicated me. To everyone I’ve met, they’ve all thought that the smell of it was harsh and too strong. It was a perfect thing to me though, and I just didn’t understand them as much as I would’ve liked. The fragrance of the rose, full and vibrant, it’s like I can see it. It’s like the petals are right in front of me, begging me to take a whiff of their powerful scent. I don’t think that it’s the rose that makes me adore it so much, it’s the smells that seem to come from it. All that’s in the bottle is water and rose, but
Rain, it’s been a long time since I’ve felt it. The sun is so hot in the sky that all of the clouds are afraid of it. I am not afraid of something that brings life to us, but that’s not all, is it. The rain brings life to us, and without it, we will die. Without it now, it will bring poor fortune to us. It is what you call a drought, but in this time, it is now called something else. It’s called a Wednesday, perfectly normal in our everyday lives.
Yet it’s not normal, of course it’s not normal. Day by day, it seems as if I’m the only person who waits for the rain, sitting on my balcony, leaning over
“Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.”
-Edgar Allan Poe
Sometimes, I lay in my bed, tossing and turning, waiting for the sun to rise over the horizon and greet me. It never does, and I’m left in darkness until sleep engulfs me. When I open my eyes, I can hear the soft sound of birds chirping, the glow of the morning seeping in through my half closed window. The light creates a suspicious, oddly-shaped circle on my bed, tainting the dirty white sheets with its perfection.
Life is the same every day; wake, eat, sleep, wake, ea
52 Secrets About Yourself
Be HONEST no matter what.
1. What is your natural hair color?
Black, with Brown tones.
2. Where was your ID pic taken?
Photoshop.
3. What's your middle name?
There is none.
4. Your current relationship status?
Single.
5. Honestly, does your crush like you back?
I honestly don't even know.
6. What is your current mood?
Nervous.
7. What's the color of your underwear?
Yellow. I think? \:
8. What is one thing that makes you happy?
Food. Sleep. . . Sleep.
9.Who was the last person you cuddled with?
My teddy bear c: the one that's like 4'7".
10. If you could go back in time, and change something what wo
https://chieriasuka.deviantart.com/journal/700-Watchers-Giveaway-Win-up-to-800-Points-Art-317126025
et.
https://turquoiseham.deviantart.com/journal/100-point-raffle-321154242?offset=0#comments
i was bored, kay.