Lea Haworth's Page

I'm pretty damn lucky

I've seen a lot

and when it comes own to it

I guess I've been a lot

I've seen some highs and some lows

and the way the world goes

And I don't understand

But I know that's how it's all planned

And I'm pretty damn thankful for the places I've been

And I'm pretty damn hopeful for the faces I've been

and the beautiful people I've met and I've known

And the certainty that no matter how far we…

Working on a premise, results are fairly interesting and may vary...

I am 25 years old.  This, in the educational world, classifies me as “mature”.  All I know is that after leaving school almost ten years ago, I have finally learnt that I know nothing.   Life has taught me that money pays for rent, food, people and everything the so-called id requires, however it is living that taught me how to appreciate the horizon bleeding into the dying day, the hard…

I saw you hand in hand, face turned downwards in contemplation, simply being as she reflected you in her face.  I wondered how you smelt, man under shirt veins under skin, earthy scents of movement and a taste of something so new and as old as anything in this beautiful, terrible world.  I wanted to be her,  To match you step for step and turn my face towards your thoughts and listen, luxurious as your hand threaded mine and our footsteps fell in time with the beating of your heart…

Hello dears.

Sometimes I like to throw an imaginary dart at the BySpencer tabs and try to gleam some kind of advice from the prose/statement/word from Spencer himself that comes up, like some kind of fortune cookie, read by none other that Mr Miyagi himself.  Everything on this site of Spencer's is worth thinking about, or listening to, or talking through...Hamburgoo.

It's like taking advice, only filtered through your own interpretation - so it ends up your own…

 and you're very much the type of man i could fall in love with

strong jaw coffee hat faraway eye old soul old photograph out of reach priceless worth nothing and so worth it all. One day we will meet as equals. Your trailing american hard block tongue pounding straight shooting verb writing drenched in coffee and old paper buffeted with desert winds and dry dry air clouded with filthy old cigars, and I will face all of you head on with deft and deft and deft facets of old world…