I don't write. I create.
I wake up.
I stretch.
I shower. My scent? Acai-berry yumminess.
I’m dressing.
I examine my outfit, I don’t want to wear layers.
I’m outside, strolling.
Eyes beam across my chest. My chest.
My curves are visible.
It’s true, I removed that additional layer.
My nipples peer out at you. All of you.
Hello!
Hello!
Your truest vision.
Your sustenance.
Your cushion.
Apparently, I’m not good enough.
So you push back on my prospects.
We all must live with our choices, until the end of our lives.
I’m not here.
I’m a figment of your imagination.
Even the sweetest moments were lost.
Know that back then…I never thought this was possible.
I envisioned a delusion.
Know that I died that day.
Know that I was buried in a capsule of bullshit.
Know that my last thoughts were of the good times you conjured up.
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In yourself.
This time last year I was being lied to. I trusted this person and they lied to me. For months…at the final hour, they departed my life.
Piano Sonata No.14 Beethoven plays as I type.
They then tried to keep hold of aspects. It was a challenging moment, but I managed to free myself from all detrimental scenario(s.)
They tried to keep hold of what they lacked without my presence.
This time last year I felt these negative vibes – I ignored them in exchange for temporary details.
Burning red flags presented themselves at every turn. I fanned them away, in favour of something amazing? Like I said, this person had my trust!
This time last year, I danced with deception and flirted with fakery.
The impact
Update
Future Scope
Legacy
I called out to the wind and it screamed at me.
It witnessed your life fade away.
I’m tired and it’s Friday.
Fucking Friday.
My womb is sacred.
I would never share my unique energy with just anyone.
I would never allow a man who isn’t worthy, to be inside me.
Your brightest star.
Your biggest moon.
And your only sunshine.
Aspects in life make me feel thankful.
I found joy today, in the form of a bag of lettuce.
It was pre-washed and still crunchy, despite the hints of light brown around some of the edges.
I gave it companionship by placing slices of cucumber beside it and I showered it with sesame seeds after this picture was taken.
The heat embraced my body with its hotness, but a cool breeze broke through and glided around me.
Right now, I’m thankful for my readers – without you, only my mind would enjoy these words.
I have nothing summery to wear or nothing that would be deemed summer-ish!
So, I found an old pair of shorts and an even older vest top. I changed into this ensemble after my shower and strolled around my home, feeling like a super-star!
No, it’s true, I have no bra on.
It’s too hot!
Who wants to wrap their breasts into a bra, a burgundy bra, a burgundy lace bra? ‘Not I’ said Unique.
Said me. Said I.
Picture this:
I’m sprawled out on my Livingroom rug, windows wide open and enjoying a mild cool breeze flowing down and over my body. I remained on my back for a moment and this moment was like 45 minutes long.
My breasts are free and breathing deeply. What? You never knew that breasts could breathe? Haha, I’m referencing my deep inhales and exhales.
I’m speaking about airflow.
Laying here I’m undisturbed, my phone is on flight mode and at the bottom of a bedroom drawer. You know, the drawer filled with panties I only wear when menstruating. Yeah, I don’t mind telling you about it – all my panties are clean and hold the sweet aroma of cherry blossom.
After 45 minutes I get up and head into the kitchen. Grab a bottle of water, open it and add a few drops of lemon juice. I take a deep gulp and feel renewed.
My home is hot, but not all rooms the coolest is the bathroom. But what writer do you know spends the day in their bathroom, writing? But it’s so cool, so I sat in there for 8 minutes at a time.
It would never be considered as strange, as no one need know – until you.
Right now, I’m writing about my day and about the heat that rose through my heart into my veins and through to my keyboard. I’m not the best writer in the world, my mistakes in writing are glaringly obvious – I’m not hiding from you. I’m proud of who I am and how my life is evolving!
My creative nature contains no restrictions. Sometimes I write from my heart, other times I write from my mind, today I write from my body – I write from my breasts.
Suck on that for a moment, I’m still melting…
No socialising, no socialising. I forbid you to fucking socialise.
2 Metres, 2 metres no more than 2 metres.
1 metre and 2 bubbles! Oooh, pub crawls from July 4th. The rest of your educational year is still prohibited.
STAY ALERT – CONTROL THE VIRUS – SAVE LIVES
RIP, ‘Thankfully, only a few hundred people have died since last week.’
‘Remember, to wash your hands!’
Was non-existent.
I #thetea and received a plethora of correspondence.
I told them you don’t change your underwear daily. That you wait until you’re on your period.
One Twitter user said he had sick in his mouth because he had masturbated over your images the night before.
I find it fascinating how online, everyone shares anything.
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