baby bachio
Bio
'i wander with my thoughts and i'm sure that what i'm writing now i already wrote. i remember... my god, my god, whose performance am i watching? how many people am i? who am i? what is this space between myself and myself?'
Stories (6)
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orange
This is the colour of fall. It is the colour of a bountiful harvest; the colour of the sun as it dips behind the fields from which you gather your harvest, the sky above it still brilliant blue. It is the colour of transitions. Have you ever seen a sunset like this? The colours - so contrasting, so opposite - blended into a seamless gradient. They are perfect complements. You are unable to look everywhere at once, so instead you focus on the smouldering orb that finds the horizon line, dragging the last dredges of light along with it. Stars begin to twinkle dimly in the ink, but you are still warm.
By baby bachio4 years ago in Humans
Red
This colour is sexy and alluring. It is being rich and mysterious; bold, but not tacky or flashy; sophisticated yet mischievous. It is elegant fangs tearing the flesh of an apple, tearing the flesh of someone’s throat; a tongue lapping up the life that throbs from the carotid artery. Someone is watching you, and they are fascinating and dangerous. Do you indulge or not? It is natural to indulge. It makes your senses prick wildly. It electrifies you, makes you feel alert again. What will come from this?
By baby bachio4 years ago in Journal
Mila's Graduation
Dawn breaks over the pond. A pastel yellow sun streaks the low horizon and casts the underbellies of the clouds with cotton candy. Behind, a baby blue sky begs to be seen. The saturation surges for just a moment, and then all colour is gone, lost to the daytime light, but just on the horizon, waiting for the sunset.
By baby bachio4 years ago in Horror
