春風が吹く。髪が白くなる。季節を数えることをやめなさい。
The wind tells of spring. My hair is becoming white. This season and next season, I keep on counting. I really ought to stop now.
5/7/5/7/7 Style
The wind tells of spring.
My hair is becoming white.
This season and next
season, I keep on counting.
I really ought to stop now.
An insight to a heart mind and soul.
Occasional writings
Life in progress
home of the elusive trope
An Oakland Girl in the World
living for the next update
a community for emerging writers
meditations and manifestos
Struggling to Live a Creative Life in a Stressful World
Living a Life of Grace
a division of the International College of Surgeons
My Thoughts, My Words, My Sincerity...
Toward the within... 