(via misc / snow on flowers)
I have been watching videos of cats giving birth for the past half hour, and it is disgustingly beautiful.
Looking out the window now, I wish I could be in a field far away stepping through a strawberry field on my tiptoes, the cold wind numbing my face, with my berry stained hands flowing with the air.
My throat feels like sandpaper and my nose is running like a faucet.
I’m fed up of being me, can I be someone else tomorrow like Beyonce? I’d like to be as fabulous as Beyonce.