I Cannot Describe My Happiness
Yet You Did Not Reach
The Most Miserable Gardener
Descending From a Knoll
2 years ago
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All on this blog is Copyright (if you use my work and don't ask me i'll eat you)
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Will.t
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- Will.t
- Will is my name and I write and record music as Paneye and draw illustrations. I once dreamed of a community of people, deep in a forest, that were all made of butter. These people only survived until spring, when they would melt into a creamy pond. Autumn hardened the pond and new butter people would stir and crawl out of the cream to start a new life.
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