I find so much beauty in dark things, as cliche as that sounds. Its all I think about this time of the year. Not in a Cannibal Corpse album cover way. Much more subtle that that. Like a worn down farmhouse on a crisp November evening. Tall, brown grass grows unkempt against a bleached horizon. A scarecrow stands, alone in a torn flannel shirt. It resembles life, but is at mercy to the wind. And alone, too, but it doesnt mind. You think you see things in the surrounded woods, but you arent sure. Things move. Youre on edge, but calm. You want to write or draw or play an acoustic guitar, but for now you stand still and immerse yourself in in the moody atmosphere. Autumn thoughts.
Posted on: Mon, 13 Oct 2014 00:09:48 +0000
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