Selcouth Flightless Bird.
Hi. They call me Laxandra since 1996. Idealist and escapist; finds her solace in books. Fond of late night paintings, poetry and prose writing. I play with colors, notes, and letters.
"What is she like? I was told - she is a melancholy soul. She is like a sun to night; a momentary gold. A star when dimmed by dawning light; the flicker of a candle brown. A lonely kite lost in flight - someone once had flown." - The Wanderer, Lang Leav
Throwback. Still remember the times when we used to stroll just to look at the field, the birds, contemplating on things that don’t really matter? I miss riding your bike. P.S. Just browsed some old files.