Pictures Speak Louder Than Words,

Or maybe once we close our mouths we can actually hear the earth speak for once. Hear the sounds we've drowned out. Seeing could be believing, but belief is blind to all objections.

Tomorrow, I want to take the 2 hour drive out to the falls. The leaves are all starting to die. And the air smells colder, wetter. It won't be long until the green is all gone. No longer a world bursting in my favourite colour. Instead there'll be fires, before the snow blankets the flamey leaves. Not to mention the rest of the earth...

I wish summer would stay longer. It's warmth gets lost too quickly. And suddenly the snow seems to bring about a change in the pace of the world. It turns slower, than so much quicker. I'm not sure if I should jump. If I'll land in fire, or just hit a wall. Either way there seems to be no choice. No choice at all.

A small collection of writing left out on a bench. Thrown in the wind, that's just how I see myself. A part of something grand, something buried under the times. Without it's title, without it's rights. Without a purpose at all.

No answer to a question, a random fact without a purpose. No meaning to life without the question of who we are.

A useless calling card, of someone you couldn't care to know.
This is where we see ourselves. This is what we've all looked back to know.

Hello Blog World,

I write for fun and for no reason at all. With no real point, and very poor grammatical structure...and such. I could care less, but I won't bother.

Mannequin Murder, to me ..that's a form of suicide. And to some could take the world to explain, while to others...
Some people don't get my humour. Some people don't get when I speak. Others, treat me like a toy and a spectacle. A show, for entertainment. I'm no model, but I'm a mannequin no doubt. And I know my kind, I see them every day. In the street, and shops and classes. In my home and in my own head. To some life's a stage, and everyday's a preformance. My life is spread across a canvas. Much smaller than a stage. Much stiffer than any dance floor.
I have idols, and I have wishes, and quite frankly, the train with my mind is more of a roller coaster. My imagination dies quicker than my fingers can move across a keyboard and my mouth can only keep up in studders.

So I hope to hear your world :] Because mine is quite lame. I'll love your life, and I'll live your words. You'll be my hero, and never know my name.