Tangerine Boy
I am Tangerine Boy. I have nowhere else to put my thoughts. I'm a Slytherin, a space nerd, and I play piano. My favourite smells are rain and old books. Here is where I say the things I could never possibly speak aloud.
"It's been a pleasure meeting you, even if you are my least favorite vegetable."
Entries 5
Page 1 of 1
Despair in Letters from a Logophile
Dear despair, (n.) The complete loss or absence of hope. There is nothing going well for me. I am in anguish and riddled with desperation for the seemingly unachievable. Dereliction and enouement...
Dereliction in Letters from a Logophile
Dear dereliction, (n.) The state of having been abandoned and becoming dilapidated. A promise sworn by our little fingers and sealed with a kiss. The whispers of “I’ll never leave you…” Just as i...
Redamancy in Letters from a Logophile
Dear redamancy, (n.) The act of loving in return. To love and be loved in equity is a sweet feeling that cannot be replicated in any faux peculiarity. Or rather, that is the conclusion of my rese...
Kairos in Letters from a Logophile
Dear kairos, (n.) The fleeting rightness of time and place that creates the opportune atmosphere for action, words, or movement. Today I had a “life is good” moment. A rare experience for me, I a...
Bolide in Letters from a Logophile
Dear bolide, (n.) An exceptionally bright meteor. I watch you shoot across the sky. But alas, as all good things, there’s a clandestine truth cloaked behind it. “Shooting stars” are not stars. Wh...
