prettyagony

The open diary of "anonymous" Entry : The Only Escape I can Muster... I started my new day with another early morning walk to the outskirts of town. The outskirts of town with the overgrowing grass and the weeping dandelions, sneezing their fluffs of somber into the arms of the lonely air. The air who begs to be hugged more than sneezed upon. Don't we all? Another day through the same rusted path. Another day through the same growing grass, weeping flowers, begging winds. Vacancy. This is where I come each and every morning when I arouse into my usual world of usual disappointment (realizing I'm still existing), and sit; staring into the