Bleeding Colours.

Somehow, you are in my everyday routine; my thought processes get through the day, and never once have you not been on my mind at one point in time.

Within the confines of my hand, my illustrator twirls; it delves deep into the corners of my heart, and assesses its very state. It questions my very thoughts, filtering through scenes and excerpts of the past and of the present; it extracts the vibrant and perhaps controversial memories suppressed within the depths of my heart. Using these, my illustrator begins sketching my innermost emotions and painting words with the colours of my mind and of my heart. With every stroke, a blow of anger slices through the page, and somewhat, somehow, my heart becomes stained with scars of the past, etched heavily and painfully into the walls of my heart.

Writing, especially hand writing puts my mind at ease.

Your name is beautiful. Its letters arranged so simply together, and yet in its simplicity, it resonates God's perfect handicraft and intricate detail in making your name perfect. Or is it you that I'm talking about? Who knows. I'm a biased being.

If you got swine flu, I wouldn't be able to see you for 2 weeks. :(

LOL, Sarah.