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the world softens. thoughts blur like ink in wAter and the weiGht of the day dissolves into the quiet pull of dreAms.
Feb 24, 2025
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Being soft in my own body, not here but not gone yet. No thoughts, only deep sighs
Jan 22, 2024
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i truly love when people embrace the simple things in life, those are what truly builds foundations for love and wonder in one’s world.
this morning as i awoke alarmingly late, i could feel my body creak like an ancient tree. seeming wisdom seeping through the cracks yet realistically was more the product of poor sleep. i felt like a mummy awaking from its tomb and glimpses of life capturing its eye and reeling it towards reality. but this time i didn’t want to rise. i just wanted to lay. wriggle, roll, and wither below my blankets. stretching stagnantly yet efficiently.
i found so much joy in my cocoon of blankets. inching up and down across my sheets, as if i was about to break through but couldn’t leave the confines of comfort.
it was this simple thing as i peered through my cubby’s window that truly made my day. simplicity in sleepiness.
Nov 28, 2024
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As a child, I have always loved the feeling of hair being gently detangled by someone that I trust. I like to think that there is so much more meaning to this action; the soft care that one has for another as they deliberately comb the other reaches as if the two shift to become more reliable for each other.
Simple actions of awareness can write so much inside someone’s mind, plainly just by little motions. The human mind is so complex but at the same time is so easily swayed by such easy stimuli.
If I had to fall asleep in a coma for an unknown period of time, I wish for my last consciousness to be spent as my lover caresses through my hair, expelling warmth and comfort. And for sure during the time of an endless void, their impact would be engraved in my brain, praying only for their well-being, ahead of mine.
Jan 30, 2025
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Feb 24, 2025
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Feb 26, 2025
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the city moves in paTterns.
an unspoken choreography unfolding at every stAtion / every street crossing / every reVolving door. at first glance it is chaos - a flood of bodies surging forWard / retreating / shifting direction with abrupt precIsion. but watch closely and you will see the shapes scribbled by the crowd / the invisible calligraphy traced by hurried footsteps and quiet hesItations.
in the metro - the rhythm is unmistAkable. the doors slide open and the wave beGins. a forward motion / urgent but practiced / an unspoken agreement between stranGers. some step aside with the grace of seasoNed performers. letting others pass in seamless succession. others hesitate. caught for a moment between movement and stillness before being pulled into the tide.
on escalators - bodies align in a pattern dictated by efficIency. one side still. the other in motion. a moving stairway of impatiEnce and pause.
at crossings - the rhythm breaks for a moment. the crowd pooling at the edge of the street like ink waiting to spRead. and then - the light changes and the city exhales. a hundred figUres spill forward. some fast. some slow.
Feb 23, 2025