An attempt to make these blogs more readable. Let's be honest, I could write everything down in a book for my own eyes. But here, it's for everyone, so why not a titch of spice?

Attending my first film set tomorrow - a sort of early start to my college career this coming Fall. That is three years condensed for a BA in Film and Art Sciences. Felling excited!

Been cutting my own hair now for a year, never done it before and it has been quite nice; an intimate time in front of the mirror. I never liked sitting silent watching a stranger cut my hair although it was easy, you know, just sitting there. I always felt compelled to talk to the hair-cutter; I didn't want to. That's my reason for leaving the barber-shop! Trust me, it was rough going but I eventually got going on my own two feet!

Another hair-related topic. I've gone "poo-less" that's right, no shampoo for more than a half of a year. What? Sounds strange, you're imagining these nasty dreds, oh no; I have Nirvana hair now. Simple; no more chemicals, so my hair can breath now and shine, oh how it shines! Some baking-soda with 3/4 water mix, rub it in my hair, wash and spray a apple-cider water mix to it, rinse again, done. I'm getting some lavender oil to mix it with to add scent!

Am I a hipster? That's certainly the image I'm painting, well I consider myself a Renascence man. I'm old school. Seriously. I ordered a new ribbon for my type writer and needles for my record player (it's from the roaring twenties) Okay, so perhaps, hipsters use these things too. :okiedokielokie:

As per-usual I enjoy poetry and story-writing. I will have to make an MLP story one of these blogs.

Here you go, for your reading pleasure ~

~ Between the Folds of Time

The waves rolled like distant thunder, melting as they swam ashore; hissing into the sand. Beyond the waters edge, stars would ascend into the sky, blooming into dreams and questions. You looked at me, illuminating eyes, green splashed in gold. How far time has walked we did not know, for in that moment, we were infinite. Ribbons of light beat from your chest in violet, pink and red hues. Our clothes danced slowly in a windless air, cradled by the ocean that once was. Hands interlocked, soft as the scent of Spring, warm as a Summers breeze ~ hair rich in Autumns splendor, lips as full as Winters Moon. You spoke the seasons; a tulip unfolds amidst the void.

In that space, we witnessed simplicity and felt beautiful complexity ~ between the folds of time.