beaverg

 There's a lot I think I'd like to write- a lot I'd like to usher into existence. The times spent dreaming, the nights spent wishing, and the days spent in far away lands that denied the existence of fear and hatred. I see fields of green, and endless expanse, dotted with violet and yellow flowers, little crimson poppies shocking in their midst, bluebells looking almost like they'd start chiming at any second. There are houses, with white picket fences, and a border collie that waits patiently for the return of her masters. There are shutters on the windows, curtains on the walls, for who cares for normalcy here? There are parks, just wai