chest pains aren’t fun at all. I mustn’t dive backwards
If there’s a hole in your heart, go to the one who opened it. Meet them.
To fathom what cannot be undone is to learn from one’s shortcomings.
Sleep is the indulgence in temporary escapism.
Have I lost feeling? Am I going mad?
Deter yourself from becoming a slave to an idea.
To be born in a first-world country is a privilege in itself.
In hindsight, we never really notice we’re presently living in “the good old days” until it becomes the good old days.
We’re all just much older kids.
Bliss with a little bit of chaos amidst love. Caressed with sunburnt ignorance under the guise of romance. Left with wounds that fail to close.
Try and find that warmth amidst the blizzard. Keep it close for as long as you’re able. It’ll make the journey through the storm worthwhile.
Your song, which I can only imagine would sound like an open flowerbed in the dusk of summer. The kind you’d often find yourself frolicking in where the air is clean and the petals stretch multiple miles, far outside the reach of vision.
Your song sounds what a tropical forest smells and some odd way taste like, with all its fruit and rainwater bliss. The kind that is rich and flavorful. Wildlife and all.
Your song, to me, is what I’d often catch myself playing on repeat to the end of all my days; a wonderful tune.
I’m a strong believer that we, as people, won’t really get it. From the time we can conceive our own thoughts to the last puffs of the air we breathe. No matter how established we consider ourselves, there’s always hints of ignorances within us. Life is given to us without much of a blueprint to see what works and doesn’t. We can try, but for only so long. Ya know?
I’d bargain that there’s such thing as emotional travels. When you’ve gone far out, there’s no way in finding your way back to place you once were. Metaphorically-speaking of course.
Hold a conversation with your neighbor. Might even come across a new friend.