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This is kind of like a story... in a way.. more like a discription of my own...
Imagination
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In my imagination, there isn't anything crazy, or insane that seems weird. My imagination is the ouside world, in the middle of spring. All the leafs are that light green, not the dark green that they are in the summer, more like a lime green with a little bit more darkness, just a tad though. The grass is a shade lighter, just barely. But you can't see the grass in my imagination, it's a field of beautiful exotic flowers in fields of wheat. The wind blows a cool breeze, and it's the perfect temperature. Surprisingly it's not raining outside, there are white puffy clouds in the sky though. They remind me of marshmellows melted and gooey in the blue sky. The sun is not set yet, but it's not the middle of the day either, it's right in the middle, when it gets to that tint your eyes can barely stand, and it doesn't blind you. And you can look outside and love how it makes everything glow, just so beautiful. I am personally wearing a sun dress, that is warm colors that compliment my skin. It ends above my knees and it's an open v-neck halter top. So perfect... I look down at my shoes and I see that they are not there, I am bare footed dancing in my little wonderland. It's nice there though, some pleace I can escape. There's a huge lake that is next to a tree that has a rope swing on it, the tree is a large cotton wood, and there is cotton floating with the breezes. It doesn't make my allergies react though. And there I am... but my hair is down to the small of my back, and it's a light rich brown, and it's not pin straight nor is it curly as a curly-cue. It's in the middle, kind of straight on the top, but has big curls as you go farther down. I'm comforted as I lay down in the long weat. And so I run, alone to that rope swing I had seen earlier and I just... swing. I hum to myself, and I hear the quiet strumming of a guitar. It's not coming from anywhere but this is the melody. I have a faint smile on my face, as my blue eyes are closed and I take a breath of that refreshing---not poluted might I add, air. It feels my lungs so easily, and I don't have any trouble getting it down. This is my imagination... this is my safe place... this is where I go when I cry... this is how I relax...
This is My Sanctuary...
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Alright, so I thought it was pretty good... and thats how I think of it, but I can't explain it... I kind of want to draw it now..
I feel girly... :/ But thats somewhat my imagination... :]
 Intoxicated Galaxies · Thu Jul 01, 2010 @ 01:37am · 0 Comments |
