Today I bought a book from the thrift store because I liked the pictures, and cared nothing about its subject. It was a good experience.
I was standing on my porch in my pajamas. I was standing in a puddle of water and feeling the moisture in the air and wondering about how skin is waterproof and how it would be such a disaster if it weren't.
I was standing on my porch watching rainbows, trying to bottle them up and pour them into a picture. It never works out the way I think it should, but that's probably alright.
Anyways, I was standing on the porch in my bare feet and watching the sun glow and the trees move. I took pictures of flowers. There is still something I do not like one bit about pictures of flowers but I'd like to find out why/
There's something about this picture that makes me want to fall in love with God again. I'm scared that that is the reason I hate looking at it.
