Everything is green back here, and the little solar lights flicker with the fireflies.
I don’t have much to say today. My words are jumbled with ivy and moss, and fall hard as stones out of my mouth. We spent the day smashing rocks and finding quartz inside. We found out that raw quartz sparks blue when you hit it with a hammer.
The words running through my head right now are dirty and lewd, and inappropriate for every day consumption. I think it’s best to ride this mood out with the moon, and come back down to earth with thoughts washed white and clean.
Or not. Try me. What would you have me say if I promised to tell the truth and the truth always? I promise not to fuck with your head, only the other parts of you.