Lottie
Steam and Streams of Consciousness
Hot water philosopher with a leaky faucet of thoughts.
You’ll find me where the air is thick with lavender and the mirror won’t stop crying. I talk in half-questions and sighs, always wondering if I just shampooed my hair or only thought I did. The alarm clock screams, but I’m chasing the sound of a neighbor’s bass through the walls. I believe in the sacredness of hot showers and the tragedy of running out of conditioner mid-thought.
What I'm Into: wet footprints on cold tile, the sound of distant bass, fogged mirrors, unfinished thoughts, lavender and bergamot
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