Digging my way out of the quicksand that is my mind, I lie vulnerable, spent and exhausted. Taking deep gulps of acrid air, I realize I’m now in a fire pit of regret.
Quicksand
My journal of big words and pretty pictures
My journal of big words and pretty pictures
Digging my way out of the quicksand that is my mind, I lie vulnerable, spent and exhausted. Taking deep gulps of acrid air, I realize I’m now in a fire pit of regret.
Thin spiral notebook 
Holy cow. What a picture! Perfect match.
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Dear GOD that picture! Where do you FIND these things? (That’s rhetorical. I know the answer. The real question I’m asking is what is it about your eye that allows you to draw these images out of places?)
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Fantastic! Great photo.
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Tara, this is wonderful! I love, love, love the word acrid – and you used it beautifully.
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I love the comparison of guilt and quicksand. Perfect.
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This touched a nerve… Very true and very well written.
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I love how well the imagery flows with your prose. Spectacular work.
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This is stark and a bit sad. Well done.
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Sometimes the quicksand can be less suffocating than others. Here’s hoping things loosen up for you a bit in 2013. Great response, great picture.
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