Not always Silent.

Not Guiney.

Account: Thoughts into Words

Dear readers,

Figuring the whitest dominated climate 'winter' waxing the leftover greens, casting two equally divided hemisphere to experience different season. At the same time. Clutching your warm-clothes, sprinting outside the door for more drastical snow pored area. Northern hemisphere of the mother-Earth, dressed into a complete white gown, like in the 'dark academia' except the black is unseen, as 'regret is greater than gratitude' be it, a simple old-in-a-question, each year a snowfall is not expected.

'Execute the outermost thoughts, and define all the fractions of your everyday opinions, and don't lose faith in you. Don't let it fade.'
-Guinevere

"Upload," Guinevere said, typing the words of experiences into her blog update, different sizes of keyboard words scripted into one longing sentence, and decreasing her interactive playground moment, and changing her dreamy fairytales into school relevant tales, wearing black jeans, navy jumper and knee-length black coat and a classic shoe for exclusive promotion news.

"You'll be promoted," Theresa said, brightening her face through the fire light, "thank you" Guinevere said, muttering, "academic result check."

"Want me to come along with you," sister Theresa asked, daunting the side-effect of the atmosphere, "of course!" Guinevere replied, while Theresa rushed off into an appropriate school outfit, catchy white long-sleeve shirt, blue mum-jeans and a coat.

"Cian," Resa said in a low tone, "what now?" Guinevere whirled, carving a massive mountain of previous years notes, "I guess, he is going with us" Resa crunched, collaborating the scarft dangling from her neck to her waist.

"Not again," a sarcasm in Guinevere's voice, compelling her notes in each binder.

"Guiney, he's waiting for us, downstairs," Resa darkened the whole conversation, "first of all, don't call me Guiney, it's Guinevere, can't stand fractional amount of intruding nicknames and second of all, I don't want to go, not with you or together" Guinevere snapped, losing her temporary visible smiley facial outlook

"I agree, Guinevere not Guiney" Resa grouched, sheilding her overwhelmed appearence, "but, in case" she ended, "in case, what" Guinevere repeated, foray of exasperated metaphor, "wait, I can cut the atmosphere with the knife" she included, snatching a cup of tea, dense chocolate flavor with a hint of mint.

Dark gray balloons permanent on the head in any estimated shapes, down pour of certain emotion shower non-stop and the deafening sound of gunfire announcing the time to end it already, causing of another conclusion of thoughts lurking in and out and enough non-justifiable reason. Your head as the composition notebook, turns it's own page in a specific time. The insight mindset security programmed not to be reformed, but Guinevere ensured to alternate within of almost equal sizes of thoughts divided by all new arising neurons broadening, same message between the same neurons collapsing in her very finally the right brain.

"Incase?" Guinevere threw a random short question, "now, Guiney, not mad at me" said Resa, craning above the fences of her sister's imagination.

"Not at all but yes in Guiney" Guinevere said, arousing her prompting smile.

"Incase, you know, drive away from this situation to another destination, like usual, during our young age" Resa quirked an eyebrow, synthesizing the reason to commit the exclamatory word yeah or okay.

"The most absolute answer is yes but under one condition as usual," Guinevere generated the storm, "name it" Resa shuddered, gulping approximate quantity of streaming tea. "Excuse it, not for you" Guinevere's rascal smirk burning in her face, vaporizing, "for someone else" an oxymora grimace shaped.

"What's in your agenda, now," Resa pierched her lips, judging the way, octopuses tactical associate into other, "you will see the town square, I mean my answer" Guinevere glinted.

"Town square means, don't ever attempt to do that, I swear-- " Resa established another complete full stop.

"I swear, I will make it happen, no interruption," Guinevere whispered, aligning her up-to-date plans, reflecting her likeness from the full length mirror, sculpting a statue of enclosed rich memory power for begining digit one to the remaining digits till four. "Nostalgic wish list" said Guinevere, twisting back into motionless rate.

"T: torture (my) W: wishlist, I: into, S:sentimental, T: time being--"

Frost of the ice materialized a need in your life, given the cherished moon overhead in the center of the night sky, and stars United into one big nation, but few shooting star which parts, however, not permanent. Like the constant moon, possessing it's mankind even during day and lack of sun at night after rotation process rules, whilst the immortal silence overdraws.

Group chat.

C.S: it's almost one thirty PM.

G: but not late.

Resa: almost late.

C.S: wintry atmosphere description:)

"Don't ever explain anything to other about me" Guinevere hummed, typing the fastest dialogue, crouching beside Resa. 'No other than Cian, Guiney" Resa trundled her eyes, landing inside a pair of white shoe.

"Stop, should I re-introduce my name" Guinevere bragged in the uncontrolled voice she learned from actual-herself.

G: don't ever research the link again, Cian Smith, not my assumption.

C.S: not at all, unless you see me browsing it.

Resa: you two, off the knotted tangles.

G: never, just see and watch my presentation after..

C.S:. Let's see.

G: not regrets.

"Guinevere, no time to waste," Resa heaved Guinevere along the staircase. "I know, I know" Guinevere chuckled, "let me bring the A-game."

Hello friends, I really hope you enjoy.