The big hair the red lips

meh

There's a pile of clothes
I try to ignore
which refuses to ignore me
and so I sigh
I say goodbye
and get a folding. 

Behind scenes

Of all the places and all the windows and all the rooms and all the lights, this lounge, the most lived in place in my domus is the only area which gets the kind of light that makes photography possible.
I have tried and tried and tried yet harder almost every room and open space to click pictures but the way the light falls enabling humongous shadows, dark corners, high/low exposure, yellowed tint, darkened highlights, poor lowlights makes the final outcome rather disappointing that no amount of photoshop can correct which is why I've finally settled here.
It's not perfect by no means it's the best, in fact it leaves a lot to be desired, but when the light is decidedly ample outside I can create an affect by bringing down the blinds thus minimising shadows and creating a modestly clean atmosphere for quick photography.

Morning some

What is a morning person really?
Is it merely someone who wakes up in the morning or does it have anything to do with their enthusiasm for early mornings?

Say a person wakes up looking forward to a glorious pre-dawn morning with a merry yawn, would that be a consideration befitting a morning person as opposed to someone who begrudgingly tosses off the sheets and hates every second of its bleary blinks but still does it almost everyday, bearing in heart how this situation if averted would be the most gladsome thing to happen by all accounts.
Would we call the latter a morning person as well?
I wonder I wonder.

Vanilla

Who me?
Making vanilla extract even before I have lunch because I'm dangerously hovering towards the extinction of said concoction and I never wish to see the day when I extend an arm into my pantry and come out with an empty vanilla bottle.

Ooh

Al those books and stationary make me horny.

••¬¬

The day passes far too fast, leaving me lagging behind.
I play catch up, and just as I almost converge within grasping range, the rogue minutes run by the speed of a startled second increasing the gap, the distance now longer, my heart no more in the game.