True?
You are the aggregate of the 5 people you hang out with most.
(Source: lawsofmodernman)
New Year’s resolutions
1. Give without expecting in return, and love unconditionally.
2. Learn something new.
3. Write every single day.
4. Express my gratitude and happiness more often to those around me.
5. Compliment, smile, laugh.
6. Make more time for friends.
7. Keep every Sunday morning free for chocolate con churros with my other half.
8. Tell my family how much I love/miss them all the time.
9. Eat healthy every day.
10. Love myself, then fall in love.
Home is where your cats are. <3
‘change’ (28.01.2010)
the quivering of a branch
as it whispers
(come, come closer)
the hesitation of a leaf
as it flutters
(flee, flee further)
come spring, go autumn
and i see the change
(first there, now here)
the bark peels
and then i am bare
(strip me of my innocence)
free-falling from the sky
and it is almost clear again
(but where do we stand?)
and with a gentle motion
the drops begin to fall
(splish then splash)
came morrow
(sorrow)
came night
(flight)
This makes me want to live.
All free souls were once trapped.
I know I am, yet I do not know who I am. How do we define ourselves? What makes us who we are? When do we discover our true selves? Why do we want to know who we are? These are just some of the questions that refuse to escape my mind. I know it is probably ridiculous to wonder aimlessly about concepts which shall never be answered - but isn’t that the point of philosophy? Isn’t it that rather than searching for answers we should be looking for the right questions to ask?
I am dying to leave everything I have behind and set off on an adventure with nothing but my music and the road. My whole body is itching with desire to escape the routined life ahead of me and embark on mysteries and tremendous travels. I want to walk all day and fall asleep under the stars, only to wake to the sunrise and the sound of morning glory. I would rather be anywhere but here. I feel the soul being sucked out of me with every page I turn and every face I see - I am not happy. And I am certainly not okay.
Yet it seems to be that whenever I am faced with a situation in which I am forced to socialise (ew!), I cannot help but put on my face. The face by which everyone knows me: a happy face. The years have turned me into an impeccable actress to the point where I have learnt to fool myself. Sometimes I still believe that I am happy. And then, once every full moon, a single tear forms in the corner of my eye reminding me of how I really feel. Why can’t I just be? It seems as though allowing myself to be happy is truly the hardest thing in the world.
And so I hope. I hope that one day I will have enough courage to stop whatever I am doing and leave. It does not matter where I go, as long as I am going. Nor I do not care why I walk, as long as I am walking. And I do not even care about where I end up, as long as I am on the right path. A path paved with hopes and dreams, upon which I can lightly tread and see the world in rose-coloured glasses. To live in a world where I do not need a watch or a single concern, that is what truly drives us to happiness.
I know I am trapped for now, but that does not mean I am not trying to break free.
Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.
—
You speak so much but you say so little
I have always believed that you can say more with silence than with words. I find myself repeatedly realising this in moments of brief clarity, courtesy of my conscience. It is precisely through silence that I become aware of how relieving it is not to speak. A profound hug with a long lost friend, an exchange of a smile with an old lover - sometimes we need to hear nothing in order to understand anything at all.
The hustle and bustle of the city vibrates thrillingly through the air as I weave myself through the crowd. Fragments of conversations fly past me and I try to catch them with my hands. Like bubbles, they break the moment I touch them, disappearing into thin air leaving only a residue of regret. Why should it be those that talk the loudest that say the most?
I had a tête-à-tête with the mirror, always trying to have the last word. It said to me, “You speak so much but you say so little.” So what do you say to that? Well, hopefully nothing.
