milk eyed

i am trying very hard to be glad for things but it is becoming harder and harder to do. today i was glad for waking up in a cloud with a grey day outside and putting on a special fleecy dress and cotton tights to welcome autumn

atrum tempestas

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micropsia

we do not grow absolutely, chronologically. we grow sometimes in one dimension, and not in another; unevenly. we grow partially. we are relative. we are mature in one realm, childish in another. the past, present, and future mingle and pull us backward, forward, or fix us in the present. we are made up of layers, cells, constellations.