Scenes are built on the corpses of musical dreams

Life is like candlelight

A foreshadow of death
In the dancing shadows
Created by the flickering
Of a lively light

Providence Saturday ♡

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠖⠚⠛⠓⣦⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣶⣶⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡆⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠻⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀
⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣶⣦⣄⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿

The hay is in the barn

Worms in my brain told me otherwise >.<

2.11

2.10

2.7

dust in the vacuum of nowhere