I am one hundred and eight years old, and some days I act accordingly, all 108 years showing in my stride and in my gaze.
Other days I pick another age. I am 7, inches of snowfall; I am 12, on the soles of each shoe; some days I am just born, seeing the world for the first.
But when picking an age, I make sure to ignore my waist size, my thread count, or the vintage on last night’s bottle of Burgandy.
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letsbeseriousforasec reblogged this from gnomebomb and added:
Lets start with something fresh
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ultimatelycolorfullife reblogged this from gnomebomb and added:
have winter [almost] over.
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