An imperfect beauty
Listening to: Low Sun, Chicane
Thinking of:
Yes! I've written many things about this adopted country I live in... About my dislike for Townies (Chavs), the failings of its government, the desire to relive its colonial days and utter disregard for its culture.
However, I do like England... from its frosty winter mornings to the country side and the b- roads that connect them. I adore its art collection, the stage where musicals open and close their curtains. I enjoy the touristic spots and the parks that adorn cities. I mostly love the sunset on the horizon with green hills and white specks of sheep grazing in the fields. I love the little towns that speckle the country with so much charm and "cuteness." I love the carved coasts of Cornwall, and the mountains of Lake District... Sometimes its hard to imagine that all of this beauty reside in the same country that carry in her palm those who scream death. I suppose it goes with all countries. I love driving on country roads watching signs past by, heading towards the golden sky lined with picket fences. Its almost magical...
Ah, the British Isles... as much as you're tainted with blood, some parts of you are still as beautiful as ever.
Thinking of:
Yes! I've written many things about this adopted country I live in... About my dislike for Townies (Chavs), the failings of its government, the desire to relive its colonial days and utter disregard for its culture.
However, I do like England... from its frosty winter mornings to the country side and the b- roads that connect them. I adore its art collection, the stage where musicals open and close their curtains. I enjoy the touristic spots and the parks that adorn cities. I mostly love the sunset on the horizon with green hills and white specks of sheep grazing in the fields. I love the little towns that speckle the country with so much charm and "cuteness." I love the carved coasts of Cornwall, and the mountains of Lake District... Sometimes its hard to imagine that all of this beauty reside in the same country that carry in her palm those who scream death. I suppose it goes with all countries. I love driving on country roads watching signs past by, heading towards the golden sky lined with picket fences. Its almost magical...
Ah, the British Isles... as much as you're tainted with blood, some parts of you are still as beautiful as ever.
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