wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com

wisps of melancholy

And she sits in the empty room in silence amidst the disarray. Drift to me in strips. People come to speak to me. But i only see silent moving lips. What a hauntingly beautiful song and the lyrics read like a poem. These few days, the leaden corners of my mind are somewhat drowned by the frazzles of the holiday spirit. But I listen to this and I am floating in the realm of pensiveness again. Broken skies, heartaches that flowers won't mend. Say goodbye knowing that this is the end. Life will go on. Delug...

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wisps of melancholy | wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com Reviews

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And she sits in the empty room in silence amidst the disarray. Drift to me in strips. People come to speak to me. But i only see silent moving lips. What a hauntingly beautiful song and the lyrics read like a poem. These few days, the leaden corners of my mind are somewhat drowned by the frazzles of the holiday spirit. But I listen to this and I am floating in the realm of pensiveness again. Broken skies, heartaches that flowers won't mend. Say goodbye knowing that this is the end. Life will go on. Delug...

<META> KEYWORDS

1 tuesday

2 faraway

3 conversations and laughter

4 image karl kris

5 posted by

6 nina baliday

7 no comments

8 labels poems

9 song and poem

10 labels music

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wisps of melancholy | wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com Reviews

https://wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com

And she sits in the empty room in silence amidst the disarray. Drift to me in strips. People come to speak to me. But i only see silent moving lips. What a hauntingly beautiful song and the lyrics read like a poem. These few days, the leaden corners of my mind are somewhat drowned by the frazzles of the holiday spirit. But I listen to this and I am floating in the realm of pensiveness again. Broken skies, heartaches that flowers won't mend. Say goodbye knowing that this is the end. Life will go on. Delug...

INTERNAL PAGES

wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com

1

wisps of melancholy: April 2013

http://www.wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com/2013_04_01_archive.html

And she sits in the empty room in silence amidst the disarray. I have a deeply hidden and inarticulate desire for something beyond the daily life.". My friends and I happen to be book lovers (which was a delight to discover when we first knew each other) and made a new corner. On making book conversations over a cup of coffee or tea, whichever you like. I hope you could check it out. I should say it is still a premature blog and is a bit rough around the edges but we're getting there. I am a moon child.

2

wisps of melancholy: March 2013

http://www.wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com/2013_03_01_archive.html

And she sits in the empty room in silence amidst the disarray. Don't come near me. Don't come near my dreams . I don't want to spend my days. And catching my breath. Even when the one thing that will release me. And numb the pain. Is to see your fac e. To see you in my dreams again. Under the cloak of comfort. Photos. heidi systo one. When a song speaks more. I was the picture of a girl staring out the windows, staring through an expanse of empty fields unto the distant horizon, staring up to the open sk...

3

wisps of melancholy: song and poem

http://www.wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com/2014/12/song-and-poem.html

And she sits in the empty room in silence amidst the disarray. What a hauntingly beautiful song and the lyrics read like a poem. These few days, the leaden corners of my mind are somewhat drowned by the frazzles of the holiday spirit. But I listen to this and I am floating in the realm of pensiveness again. Broken skies, heartaches that flowers won't mend. Say goodbye knowing that this is the end. Tender dreams, shadows fall. Love too sweet, to recall. Dry your eyes, face the dawn. Life will go on. All t...

4

wisps of melancholy: August 2013

http://www.wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com/2013_08_01_archive.html

And she sits in the empty room in silence amidst the disarray. A letter read in your voice. The shadows offer no solace. And the silence worse. Like a searing pain. That never keeps me sane. Your voice reverberates in my head. A nightmare in my bed. Uttering familiar words,. Old loves and solemn whispers. I lie in stolid helplessness. As this feeling passes. Tomorrow I will burn your letters. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). I love polaroids, books, vintage, poetry and traveling. City girl, country girl.

5

wisps of melancholy: September 2013

http://www.wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com/2013_09_01_archive.html

And she sits in the empty room in silence amidst the disarray. No waves how hard it roll to shores. No will how hard a captain pleads. Could steer away the boat sails. Of a heart that is mine for always. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). I love polaroids, books, vintage, poetry and traveling. She was a person you would not be surprised to find sitting by herself in a corner of the world where she didn't belong, writing things in a notebook to prevent the rise of panic. Alice Munro, Friend of my Youth.

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moodystranger.wordpress.com

The Stranger – j'adore & more

https://moodystranger.wordpress.com/the-stranger

J'adore and more. A wee corner of favorites things by @rouenna}. Where silence is palpable between spaces and stars, a mind seeks little worlds, little supernovas out of time. I love trinkets, handmade pieces, vintage, sea shells, old letters, carousel, trunk of treasures and medieval towns. This is a wee corner of my favorite things, a little backstreet away from my main avenue, Solitary Spirit. Also, myself elsewhere,. Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.

disheveledchic.blogspot.com

disheveled chic: Something new: moving

http://disheveledchic.blogspot.com/2013/03/something-new-moving.html

In what stumbling ways, a new soul is begun. I am moving . I have s pent wonderful moments hanging out on this spot . But as the w ay s of the world go, so must I go. This has been in fact a lighter place than I'd rather intend . I would be moving to deeper and darker waters, so to speak. If you don't mind, then you may visit me there. You may stay as chic as you are, dear read ers. UPDATE. March 31, 2015. Photograph by quentin de briey. Lovers don't finally meet somewhere,. View my complete profile.

disheveledchic.blogspot.com

disheveled chic: March 2013

http://disheveledchic.blogspot.com/2013_03_01_archive.html

In what stumbling ways, a new soul is begun. I am moving . I have s pent wonderful moments hanging out on this spot . But as the w ay s of the world go, so must I go. This has been in fact a lighter place than I'd rather intend . I would be moving to deeper and darker waters, so to speak. If you don't mind, then you may visit me there. You may stay as chic as you are, dear read ers. UPDATE. March 31, 2015. Photograph by quentin de briey. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). Lovers don't finally meet somewhere,.

disheveledchic.blogspot.com

disheveled chic: Turning the page

http://disheveledchic.blogspot.com/2013/01/turning-page.html

The mind is an intricate. Dashing around here and there. As the new year begins to lumber on, a certain resolve. Of turning a new leaf. Formed during the remnants of the previous year, have already taken hold. These thoughts, pulled out from cabinets inside my head, swept down on my virtual identity and left stones upturned on its wake. The little readers I have before, or none for that matter, must think I've disappeared into oblivion. The blog link and name of this spot was replaced from disheveled chic.

disheveledchic.blogspot.com

disheveled chic: January 2013

http://disheveledchic.blogspot.com/2013_01_01_archive.html

The mind is an intricate. Dashing around here and there. As the new year begins to lumber on, a certain resolve. Of turning a new leaf. Formed during the remnants of the previous year, have already taken hold. These thoughts, pulled out from cabinets inside my head, swept down on my virtual identity and left stones upturned on its wake. The little readers I have before, or none for that matter, must think I've disappeared into oblivion. The blog link and name of this spot was replaced from disheveled chic.

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Wednesday, March 5, 2014. No 4, St. James' Street. Continued from Mr. Miller and the Mysterious Mistress. Nearly 3 AM when I heard the faint crash in the distance. I was lying on the floor, still half-conscious. As I laboriously made my way towards the window, something else caught my eye. By the time I woke up again it was around 5 PM. I lazily got dressed, grabbed a sandwich ‘to-go’ and took a cab to Jessica’s. It was a fairly short drive, but the rush hour traffic slowed us d...8220;You never called!

wispsofmelancholy.blogspot.com

wisps of melancholy

And she sits in the empty room in silence amidst the disarray. Drift to me in strips. People come to speak to me. But i only see silent moving lips. What a hauntingly beautiful song and the lyrics read like a poem. These few days, the leaden corners of my mind are somewhat drowned by the frazzles of the holiday spirit. But I listen to this and I am floating in the realm of pensiveness again. Broken skies, heartaches that flowers won't mend. Say goodbye knowing that this is the end. Life will go on. Delug...

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Wisps Of My Mind. Constantly tugging at the strings of my mind…my thoughts scatter…and sometimes, right as I'm about to fall asleep, the clearest dialogues begin. Another year gone…. January 2, 2013. Let’s recap 2012 shall we…. Cried more than I’d care to admit. Saw my first space shuttle when it flew right over my office in September. Went on my first ghost hunt for a friend’s birthday. That was fun. Must add alcohol next time. Tried to start my PartyLite business back up. Failed. Find a happy place.

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