Perhaps what Jules Renard say is true and “there are places and moments in which one is so completely alone that one sees the world entire.” For me, this magical moment only ensues on rainy days and early mornings — the time when the sun should be rising if it was not obscured by dark and haunting clouds — that I find myself to be alone and completely contented.
To have silence engulf me like a familiar blanket as though I’m the only person on earth is rather intimate and special. The only sounds to be heard are the slow trickling of rain outside my window and the low, steady voice of Casely playing out the tiny speakers of my phone. Somehow, the pitter patter of rain pelting upon the gravel earth adds to the slow melody of my favorite song makes the moment even more intimate and surreal. It is a remix only I know of and belongs to be alone and I am rather possessive.
On mornings like these I often like to sit alone in the dining room where I have a clear view of pelting rain kissing pavements. It is here that I can stare outside the glass door for hours, with a cup of steaming hot tea in the cold palms of my hands, and random thoughts would invade me. Everything and everyone — from the wild rabbits outside my house to the people residing in it — seems to be fast asleep, even though it’s already 7 AM and factory workers have already started their morning shifts. Somehow this moment seems more personal, as though it only belongs to me, ephemeral, even though in the back of my mind I know it is anything but. For some odd reason, that some how makes me extremely relaxed and content; simply because this moment to me is so precious.
To only exist for myself, solely for myself without consequence, I somehow find that very emotional considering how many of us live to please others beside ourselves.
I got bored. Staying up late tonight to do some extra studying. Anyone understand macroeconomics? :p
I hope he steal glances at you when you’re not looking, play with your fingers when he’s holding your hand, kiss your hair when he holds you, and tell you he loves you before you go to sleep.
So when people leave, I’ve learned the secret: let them. Because, most of the time, they have to.
Let them walk away and go places. Let them have adventures in the wild without you. Let them travel the world and explore life beyond a horizon that you exist in.
And know, deep down, that heroes aren’t qualified by their capacity to stay… but by their decision to return.❞
Ever since then,
he’s kept his hands behind his back.
he almost had her;
but with a change of
heart, she turned away into
the arms of another.
All he wants are
kisses and sunshine
while I desperately
search for a
reason to stay
on stormy nights
there are words —
which remain unspoken
— that pops up every time
your name is mentioned
words like: loved,
regrets, and why.
I lost you;
when I was too busy holding onto somebody else.