sometimes i close my eyes and dream about wicker furniture and pais on the floor and messy watermelon eating and white kurtas and briiight sunlight. it's like a scene of perfection that i can go back to and imagine...different aspects and details everytime..fleshing it out a little bit more. like reverse nostalgia. maybe it exists somewhere in the discworld manner of belief-ing things into being...
1 comment:
"Pas un homme! Vous êtes un soldat, un soldat blessé!" Hahahaha, I LOVE that scene from History Boys!
Post a Comment