I want to live in a house with pretty doorknobs and wooden window panes.
I dream of greenhouses.
I want stacks of kinfolk magazines and children who are raised drinking homemade raspberry soda, with names like Finn and Darcy.
I want to live in Europe until its become part of me and I've become a part of it and then I want to move on.
I want to never worry about gas money and just drive and drive.
I want flowers, always.
I want to live in Buena Vista, Virginia and Portland, Oregon.
I want to continue to own an unnecessary beautiful amount of hats and shoes.
I want to stay an a hobbit hole in New Zealand and visit New York in Christmas.
I want to have money set aside for spontaneous day trips.
I want to ride the scariest roller coaster in the world.
I want to go to Georgia with Shelby so we can just sit on the beach and write and be introverted.
I want to stand smack in the middle of a tulip field in Amsterdam.
I want to wear socks with sandals.
I want a cat.
I am proud to announce that the previews for my life look like Kinfolk films. It looks like well bound books and pockets large enough to fit Kindles. It looks like my life though.
Wait, scratch. My life is beautiful right now. I do lovely things right now.
I'm sort of a shaky person lately. After people, and thoughts, and dreams, and watching The Book Thief.
I want it all so badly.