My name is April, i'm 18 years old and i'm an aspiring artist. I draw the ugly things in life. Pain and suffering. Sadness and anticipation. This is a place for my creations to run wild.
the city streets at night like glistening bodies of water reflecting orbs of light. warm lamps, their glow as sweet as caramel on my tongue. we see no moon tonight nor will we ever see it again as it once was, only a million inferior replicas.
the cover of my little baby moleskine. does anyone find the name moleskine a bit bizarre and grotesque when they are merely made of cardboard and paper?