Apparently, inspiring things.

Female student at Pratt Institute, Brooklyn, working with an oxy-acetylene cutter. Date unknown.
(Pratt Institute Libraries)

(Lily Elise, Edwardian actress)

(Bogota, Capital of Colombia)

(Fetish Fiesta, by toerning on deviantart)



(Zoe Saldana, actress)

(Please, if any of you knows the sources for the uncredited photographs, please tell me so I can credit them properly)

PS. I got a tumblr! My username is, surprisingly, Elviella. Tell me if you use it too, I'd love to find you there as well. C:

1.20

My thoughts run through my fingers when I write.
I feel them take shape and become coherent, become true. Their essence is in the words, and the essence of the words is in the writings.
I only really think, really concentrate when I write. The rest of the time my thoughts are endless chains running around my head.
I once read a book about a girl who wrote. That girl wrote because only then she could think. Reading that book, I realised how true that was for me as well.
When I write, and when I talk, is when I truly think. It's easier, much easier to concentrate on something serious then. And then the thoughts run through my fingers and onto the paper, or through my tongue and onto the air. I hear them, I read them, and they're crystal clear, existing and constant.
That's why I need to write. Now I know.

Oh, hi there, summer.

I didn't really see you coming.

Please, wait a little for me to get used to you. I need you and I don't want you to pass without realising your presence.

Welcome in my heart.

PS. I should seriously rethink my latest blogging choices and write something longer than, say, five lines. Yeah.