InPresentTime's profile picture. There is nothing but mystery in the world, how it hides behind the fabric of our poor, browbeat days, shining brightly, and we don't even know it. #InLove RP.

Luca

@InPresentTime

There is nothing but mystery in the world, how it hides behind the fabric of our poor, browbeat days, shining brightly, and we don't even know it. #InLove RP.

I can't think straight. @InPresentTime Those curves...

InPresentTime's tweet image. I can't think straight. @InPresentTime Those curves...

had emails I take them all inside to open them and start my day-


picking up. I open the mailbox and indeed there were a couple of envelopes inside. Surprised by the fact that I already --


When I decided to head back inside and start unpacking I see that the red flag of my mailbox was raised, signal that something was inside that needed --


oranges and reds into the horizon like a pot of molten lava. Everything was beautiful and I felt ready to start my life living in this beautiful house. --


amazing view a little more. I leave the empty cup on top of an empty box and head outside. The sun poured out it's brilliant hot --


much needed cup of tea, I started to unpack everything, but not without going outside first and enjoy the --


It shone on the lake below shining its deep depths. The radiant glow scintillated and beamed: the legacy of the sun. After preparing a --


that were flung over the sky with terrible alacrity. The receding blue and oranges battled the blackness pushing it away with arms. --


my time looking out the big window. The sun set threatening to dip behind the horizon, firstly cascading a prim bombardment of colours --


art, something that soothed right to the soul. During the first week of living here in this beautiful lake house I would spend most of --


by the carpenter's hand, it's grain flowing as water might, in waves of comforting woodland hues. Under the lamp-shine it was nature's --


homely browns and the walls were the greens of summer gardens meeting a bold white baseboard. The banister was a twirl of a branch, tamed --


to the wide hallway. Upon the walls were different paintings that I loved. The floor was an old-fashioned parquet with a blend of deep --


A few months passed and I was finally living in the house of my dreams. The one I wanted to live in. The house was welcoming from the open door --


of clothes, as each thing is packed the home becomes a house once more, awaiting a new life with a new family. --


dirt and dust shapes on the floor like templates of the furniture that once stood there, white parcel labels stuck on black garbage bags --


-Cardboard boxes scrawled on in black broad felt-tip marker, bare walls devoid of the usual smiling framed faces, --


Can´t Focus... @InPastPlaces Why am I here, again?

InPresentTime's tweet image. Can´t Focus... @InPastPlaces Why am I here, again?

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