millpigeon

Pigeon

I'm a pigeon, just not a messenger. Look for the Snowing Tree where a cold forgotten lies. The Bird Who Counts Stars has purposed itself to the Snowing Tree. It does not guide, it does not help. It is very cold and he's alone, forever forgotten. Ever reaching, defy what is deemed impossible for the one who shall be found. A replaced world which did not erase the previous one, only to be rewritten and eventually collapse for the Snowing Tree to consume. How is the cold, can you feel it? Are you lonely?



This week

Reading: The East of Eden

Making: wingbook

Thinking about: mills





Stamp collection