Grief is not unlike whiskey
in that it makes me aware I am not behaving
like everyone else, and equally powerless
to stop it.
I pretty much think that it’s just a good time call when you realize a lot of things that you are actually desperate to hang on when you can just let go and take the reigns yourself. What a dumb choice but it doesn’t define what you are. It doesn’t matter what it was like before as it glides a little, it sours beyond your wake-up call to ask for a glass of wine and live your life the way the sun rises from the east.
Once you taste the freedom you’ve always wanted, you’ll try your best to whisper a sweet nothing to the wind and leave it to that and kiss your hands together and silently, look up and see a million possibilities.
It feels like you’re breathing for the first time you’ve been kept in a heartless cage, filled with nonsense chokers and unusual behaviors, but all that changes, and you’ll see the light leaks from your eyes like a tainted photograph that you just kept within.
All these memories will come like meteorites and will feel like you’ve taken a long stride back and forth from an endless vacation.
You will feel alright, happy and light. It’s not like drinking whiskey, it is feeling the moment of the way you feel the whiskey. Not by chance, not by the tremor of it, nor the addiction.
It is feeling selfless to yourself.
and once you close your eyes, it will all go back to the cluttered chariot.
“Well-run libraries are filled with people because what a good library offers cannot be easily found elsewhere: an indoor public space in which you do not have to buy anything in order to stay. In the modern state there are very few sites where this is possible. The only others that come readily to my mind require belief in an omnipotent creator as a condition for membership. It would seem the most obvious thing in the world to say that the reason why the market is not an efficient solution to libraries is because the market has no use for a library. But it seems we need, right now, to keep re-stating the obvious. There aren’t many institutions left that fit so precisely Keynes’ definition of things that no one else but the state is willing to take on. Nor can the experience of library life be recreated online. It’s not just a matter of free books. A library is a different kind of social reality (of the three dimensional kind), which by its very existence teaches a system of values beyond the fiscal.”
How lonesome it is for a sick little girl to be over-thinking a lot of things as early as now. But you cannot stop it, I really don’t think you can and when that troubled soul that always keep pulling you down whenever you try to get back up is the most distressing and frustrating thing you’ll ever experience.
It’s like drowning in your own thoughts.
Right or wrong, there’s always something that will make you feel unconscious from the inside. Something you can’t explain but it feels like you must share it to someone else but it makes you feel obnoxious.
and feeling delirious.
I believe my mind is a library,
even I get utterly lost
in the vast expanse of books.
My life is a big turn of events which shapes up who I am in my life. I can’t even start to describe every bit of what changed me to become who I am now. I guess books, are just a huge influence in my life that I am so thankful for.
Every page, every scent of every book that I get to read is somewhat a gateway to somewhere new, somewhere I create my own world at and somehow, it makes everything feel better. In my mind, I have a city of books that I come to visit every so often to make me feel that I’m not alone.
With my books, I feel special in a way that a normal human being can’t give me. Does that sound selfish? I guess not. My world is contained within my reach, and only I can access everything. I tell you, it’s wonderful to have your own world in the palm of your hands, but the books, the stories, tales and whatever written on print that triggers the imagination of your awesome mind is such a wonderful feeling.
I don’t just collect books, I live books. I live for them, I live for good stories to read, so that I can share it with someone if my power worked, they would be sharing it to other people, then to the next. And the feeling, it’s so fulfilling. It’s as if you’re helping the author feel the same thing, of sharing the love of pages, even broken spines, the poetry, simplicity and work of art to other people who hunger beautiful and wonderful stories.
I feel dedicated. Though, I don’t have my own book. I don’t plan on having one, I just want to be a messenger, a time traveler, a creator and master of my own desire. A designer of my world, in my mind, with the stories I keep. The books I take care of, and my very own library that’s as old as I can remember and will carry on until I get old.
I had a dream just like this:
I was walking around in the cloud of mist that’s forming around me. Probably it was just a furry smoke but I don’t have an idea where it’s coming from, but I let it cover me for I feel very protected of it. Then I take a box of matches from the pocket of my coat and I light the ground on fire but it merged with the fog and it looked amazing.
Then I felt something tingling on my foot, I saw spiders and worms, they’re not hurting me, they’re just there, waiting for something to happen and I couldn’t bear them lying on my foot so I kicked them out and the fire went stronger, to the point it burned the creatures and the ground I’m standing on.
So every time I walk, a fire is formed on my footsteps, and the fog follows me too so does the nighttime, and the stars and moon they call capture that moment. Then I collapse.
Then I woke up.
In the name of love, there are people who believe that once you put a lock at this tower, the love you have with the other is sealed, and when you throw the key to a far away place, the love will be stronger, since the key cannot be found anymore.
It seems so silly because I don’t believe in this stuff, but I tried to join the bandwagon, it was fun and exciting but of course, when you’re alone doing the work, what’s the point right?
It was a wonderful experience joining your own lock with the others, though my darling was back in his hometown and I was here, I did the work while I whispered a prayer and even wrote a note along with the lock. I honestly had no idea what would even happen on joining this band of locks, but it sure is fun and promising.
Cheesy as it may seem, the whole art is beautiful at first sight. You can really feel the love around and you can see that each lock resembles a great love that only those two lovebirds can understand. I don’t know how to read Korean, but I’m sure that each lock represents quite a relationship that is strong, whether it was in the past, present and even the promises of the future.
Taken with Canon 1100D by yours truly.
Such a fool.
He’d blow the sun and moon and all the stars, as a pastime for his sweetheart.
The first week of April my family and I decided to give Seoul a try for the summer! To be honest, we weren’t that ready especially for the wardrobe but good thing my closet keeps enough space for comfy, knitted outfits that’s good for actually a “Baguio” weather only. So I just used lots of scarves and bonnet to add it all up and some comfy socks for added warminess. (I just made that word myself)
Anyway these photos don’t do justice prior to what to you guys would love to see when you have time to visit Korea, I just took these photos for an obligatory purpose such that I can keep memories for myself, to post it on my room cork-board wall and to be honestly speaking that it’s always important to take photos wherever you go.
I love Sakuras! My dad used to tell me a lot about these pretty flowers, since I’m also a sucker for pink, I just loved every bit of these wonderful an beautiful flowers. Very photogenic! More photos of these down below.
I love how I experimented with my settings to get this wonderful photo.
Obligatory photo under the beautiful tree!
Bees! Guys that are bees!
Then suddenly the bear stood up!
Then these are just some of the cutest bunny merchandises you can see around Seoul. Damn.
Suprised to see that I do have my own little cafe too, named after me!
Chillin at a cafe!
Because you can never get enough of flowers.
My whole Korea trip was awesome indeed! Judging by these photos, even though I was this normal touristy-photographer, I can say that these carefully picked photos shows how much I’ve enjoyed Korea even though they’re actually not all of the photos I have in my insanely-huge memory card. There’s more, but I guess I’ll just post them soon.
All photos by yours truly using a Canon 1100D experimented on different settings and apertures and shutter exposure.
Check out my Tulip Festival flower post here.
So we’ll stay quiet. We’ll look at the ground. We won’t speak up, at least not about most things. And you will think that it is us being silly and childish, and maybe it is, but that doesn’t make it any easier in the moment.
Sometimes I’m lonely and I don’t even know what I’m lonely for.
It starts this way:
You stare into their eyes. They flash like all the stars are out. They look at you seriously, their eyes at a low burn and their hands no matter what starting off shy, with such a gentle touch that the only thing you can do is take that tenderness and let yourself be swept away.
Then the more you stare, the more you look goes deeper and it’s not just the eyes that you see, but you see through that person, how much and how constant his/her love is giving to you every second of every day. Every minute, every word, every movement, every kiss, hug and stroke to your hair that you receive makes you sweep off your feet and feel something.
And in that moment, you feel it.
You start to feel it.