three mysterious things i love:
- the night sky
- dreams
- the ocean
- lying on a sunflower field with muddy feet and giddy heart, the weather is humid, your eyes are dozing, and you feel the coolness of sunflower leaves and grasses on your back.
- watching the waves on the ocean dancing in rhythm, its serene sound harmonizing miraculously on your ears and you feel the water kissing your legs
- waking up on the wrong side of the bed yet seeing your cute dog still sleeping so soundly, solemnity and the smell of lavender candles in your room
- picking strawberries and trimming bushes on a fine, fine weather while wearing a cute straw hat with an embroidered flower on the right, and a cute yellow dress
- the collection of happy memories in a cute bottle with sands from all over and seashells, jar painted with mustard yellow and a pink ribbon
- smelling like an angel while having a lush bubble bath after a long, tiring day and sleeping on a newly changed sheets
- hot chocolate and black coffee on a winter evening, eating christmas cookies while dipping it in a chocolate, and smelling like a bakery
- knitting cute things and embroidering on new stuff while smelling like orange after peeling heaps of pomegranate for grandma
- smelling like paint after working on a nice sheet of canvas, drawing multiple strangers, sketching cute sceneries, and having paint smudges all over your fave shirt because of acrylic.
- classical music in a coffee shop while waiting for somebody special (may or may not be a friend) smelling like a cup of coffee and embracing the solemnity of the atmosphere
But I was hoping you’d stop so I could ask you these simple things like, do you love the ocean? And well, could you love the ocean with me?
You don’t pass or fail at being a person, dear.
The person you think of when you stand in front of the ocean. That’s the person you’re in love with.
I hope I never get tired of the night sky, of thunderstorms, of watching cream make galaxies in my coffee. This world is ugly. I hope I never grow to be someone who can no longer see the small beautiful things.
different kinds of tired:
1. all day at the beach sleepy. warm skin. wet hair. salt and sand and green apple-scented shampoo. bed sheet tides pulling up and down stomach flips into mermaid dreams.
2. milky tired. early nights. wondering if you are getting sick. medicine light bones. eyelids melting closed. dizzy, dizzy, spinning into sleep.
3. drowsy car rides. soft radio buzz. pillow on the window. pulling on your seatbelt. waking up and not knowing where you are.
Le rire joue en ton visage Comme un vent frais dans un ciel clair.
Charles Baudelaire, from À Celle qui est trop gaie; Les Fleurs du Mal.
[trans] “Laughter plays on your face Like a cool wind in a clear sky”.
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p>(via xshayarsha)
“Oftentimes, just as the sun goes down; I begin to feel this empty, loneliness in the pit of my stomach. It’s as if all of the hope and ambition I have during the day; disappears as the darkness of the night fills the sky. I start to feel this heavy feeling of anguish, and hopelessness. My mind begins to overflow with these negative thoughts about myself, and my life. The air becomes so thick with angst and worry, it becomes hard to breathe; hard to think.
But all of that disappears when I look up at the moon.
That dreary feeling of loneliness slowly fades away as I realize that I am not the only one out there that’s also looking up at the moon. I am not the only one in the world that is lonely. And I am definitely not the only one in the world that is going through something.
Although at times the night can make me feel alone, the moon will always remind me that I’m not.”
