When someone asks me what's my occupation.

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Argentina
seen from China

seen from China

seen from Poland
seen from Malaysia
seen from Netherlands
seen from Argentina
seen from China
seen from Puerto Rico
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Poland
When someone asks me what's my occupation.
I’ve spent a life chasing stories to tell when I’m old.
-Atticus
I may look in the mirror and pick myself apart but I’ll always remember when you said that everything I despise you adore and everything I complain about you compliment.
Dramatic Diary Entry #22 TW: dissociation
I am anything, anywhere. I am crying about spilled milk, and yet, I spill milk all the same. I stare into space. Maybe I am in space, my body is floating. Somewhere. I am laughing, somewhere. I am frowning, somewhere. My eyes must look like they're lost, drifting through a fog under eerie moonlight. Somewhere, he frowns. Somewhere, she stares.
"You wander into dreamland," they say.
But this land is not a dream, its only promise are gates, higher than eyes can see and nothing but fog. In here, I miss my friends, my family, everyone. I just wander aimlessly and reminisce about the past. The old, silver moon drowns the fog in its horror-mood, it looks all just too strange, a foreign land. Somewhere, I see them – my friends and family, smiling. But their faces melt into the fog and become white engulfed in full moon light. And somewhere, I am smiling too. Until I come back into dreamland, until the fog encloses me again. And I miss them again, although somewhere, they are frowning, right beside me. Somewhere, something has happened but my head is in the clouds. In dreamland, they say.
Me for months🙃
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Maybe you're searching for a new author to enjoy. This may help.
A collection of short writings by several indie authors for you to enjoy