Tribute to you, found in a courtyard in a seaside town. Never forget the dreams you once had as a child, for they were not childish. We have simply forgotten the power in chasing our tomorrows with boundless faith in achieving the *impossible* if only we believe in ourselves. You may call me a dreamer, but I…oh, how I have witnessed the impossible.
“Voice Mail Ghost” as a test run on the newest addition to my growing typewriter family. Rich purple 1950s Olympia De Luxe. Still getting used to her keystrokes, but she sure is purty. Pictures to come! Hope everyone is having a lovely day. ❤, Jess
Note to Self: Stop being cheap…it is always always worth spending the extra money for quality paper. Apologies for the poor quality. #writerproblems In other news, I’m back from vacation and my writing hiatus is broken (yay!). I wish to thank each and every one of you, my readers, for being so patient and gracious and choosing to hang tight while I was off adventuring and gleaning new material from my experiences. I think it’s crucial for writers to take a breather every once in a while in order to refocus and recharge, and, thankfully, Chicago did just that. Thank you…
Guys…hey guys!… I’M ON A BOAT! #ChicagoWaterTaxi Possibly one of my all-time favorite things I got to do during my week in Chicago. 🙂
Wrote this while wallowing in an especially snarky mood. Tucked it away. Forgot about it. Found it. Decided it wasn’t complete and utter shit. Also because I still feel as strongly about the topic (in a personal sense). Posting.
This is very near and dear to me. I have lived this tale many a time in my life.
Text of poem typed beneath image for ease of reading. 🙂 Pace stops and lids do dropfor just one beat of my childlike heartBreathe infusion salty popcorn sweet candy cotton web laced on memory’s budsShouting screaming laughter ringing as spinning ferris wheel lights twinkle to warm my glowing cheeksNot that long ago your first love innocence clasped my hand nerves humming in a thrill no ride could conjureWe spun in our little carnival summoning fantasy from our trapeze eveningTiptoe conversations and breaths held tight before kisses stamped our youthful lipsBittersweet how its flavor chokesSTEP RIGHT UP!Carnie calls split nostalgia lids…