tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow.

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,

To the last syllable of recorded time;

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player,

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,

And then is heard no more. It is a tale

Told by an idiot, full of sound a fury,

Signifying nothing.

- Macbeth

longing.

I miss the summer. I miss lazy mornings and carefree afternoons. I miss weekends at the lake and impromptu photo shoots. I miss trips to Paris and wild laughter. I miss sun-kissed skin and waves crashing on the beach. Oh, sunshine, won't you come back?

sometimes...

Sometimes, I forget how to be happy... I don't know what has gotten into me lately, but I feel like a pathetic lump. I've been avoiding this blog, avoiding my Nikon, avoiding my friends, because I feel as if am turning into a choleric, petulant old toad lady. I have so much to be thankful for, so many happy little things all around... and yet I feel bitter, resigned, dejected... what the heck?! A few short weeks ago I was so full of hope and excitement but lately that has all given way to fatigue and despair, contempt even! If you're there: could you send a morsel of inspiration my way? I am starving for it. Please and thank you.

you're disloyal.