"Happiness is a bowl of cherries and a book of poetry under a shade tree." -Astrid Alauda Nothing sings "summer" mor...

Time flies by far too quickly for my liking. Individual days seem to drag on forever, but weeks vanish in the blink of an eye. Disconcerti...

Sick. I hate being sick. I rarely am, so when the occasional illness hits, it feels more like a being bruised and beaten like a rag doll...

I don't consider myself a terribly profound or sentimental individual, but I do occasionally experience bouts of musings of a more exis...

I never realized how much my life revolves around books. And not even reading them, to be honest. Just the mere presence of them. Filling t...