red lips and saturday nights.

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.

resolutions.

to say "thank you" more often.

to not sweat the small stuff (so much).

to go somewhere new.

to read something fascinating.

to write more letters.

to sing my heart out.

to do something that scares me.

to love with no expectation of love in return.

eleven is my lucky number.

i hope, i hope, i hope.