Who I am.

insight fortyone perfection noun  - the state or quality of being perfect.  - a person or thing considered to be perfect. sun gleaming down on the cool forest leaves, i walk fast paced down the grass empty path, music blaring through my headphones to block out the cars, to block out everything. looking upon to the painted peeled pub i start towards to busy road that leaves my hair blowing the way they race, pausing my music as the chorus starts to sing "It's in the stars, it's been written in the scars in our hearts. We're not broken just bent, and...". evening dawning i kick the gravel below my denim converse shoes and head towards my silent haven, my quiet get away from all the noisy arguments and texts from a lost lover, my way of getting rid of everything. easing my music volume, i greet the open water with a deep breath of fresh air and a smile, not a human nor dog in sight, just the vast amount of geese that sit on the soft water gliding to the beat...

insight thirtyone this is a very personal and diary like blog... enjoy? i went for a walk today. just a gentle stroll down the lake that lies underneath the swans and ducklings that swim in the afternoon sun. the gleaming heat making Trigger pant in exhaustion, the cars flying past making a much needed breeze. before reaching the lake something happened, just something i guess happens to few people but isn't seen in a way that would effect you, right? wrong , oh so very wrong. "hey girl nice tits" he shouted from behind the fence, overalls tied around his waist with his friend laughing and whistling as i walked. quickening my speed, i concentrate on my music and carry on. reaching the lake i smile and talk to other dog walkers that ask the breed, age and name of my puppy, the normal day to day "awh"s and "he's so cute"s. trying to push aside the thoughts in my clouded head, i take photos of the pretty daisies and tall green trees that lit...

insight twentyfour a warm spring morning creeps through my curtains as the early birds talk within the branches about the daily flight to the feeders, more awake and alert than I. dazed by the beams of gold, I stretch my weary limbs and reach for my phone to check Snapchat, being the stereotypical teenager I am. after much scrolling and yawning, i lunge out of bed and take a jump scare look at my bed hair in the finger stained mirror while fiddling in my draw to find the brush, and maybe the a hair bobble too. much time later, my clothes are on - blue jeans and a grey embroided jumper - and i am heading downstairs to gulp down a cup of luke-warm tea, too happy to be exhausted. singing the new Shawn Mendes song, I enter the garden to say a high pitched hello to my puppy who flipped his toy into the muddy puddle that uses to be the chicken coop - "what did you do that for?" sun gleaming down upon the veg patch, I grab my phone to text my boyfriend about a walk I've ment...