and so i am walking alone.

the wind is trying to grasp my tender skin, but not quite getting there. the rain lassos after me, pleading for me to break down. i am stopped, again and again, asked if anything is wrong. i say no, because nothing is wrong, i am simply alone, and what is wrong with being alone?

i love to be alone, though my alone isn't really being alone, for i am always with my music and my words. those are the two things that will never, ever abandon me. the fuel of an ipod, thumping into my ears, may break down, but the buzz of joy to be alive, to live, will always be there.

but it's my words that matter most to me. my words can be dripped in honey, making me feel tingly and tantilised with pure honest delight, enough to make me giggle nausiously. these words are the blanket of snow, smoothing out the lumps and bumps of life.

but my words can also be stratchy and raw and can cut through peoples lungs, knocking them back with an audio thwack. they can slice through my strings of hope, sending them tumbling down to a doomed eternity of depression. but only if thats what i want. my words respect me and honour me and obey me, something that i would never wish for any human to ever do. i'd hate that.

me and my words, we share a a complex intertwined realtionship. but it's beautiful. sometimes, peole see that realationship. but most of the time they don't, but i guess i like it that way, as if we have a private life too.

oh, and here is another photo. it's not my favourite, but i think that it works well with the post.