sayoteacup

[sayoteacup]

"I had no interests. I had no interest in anything. I had no idea how I was going to escape. At least the others had some taste for life. They seemed to understand something that I didn’t understand. Maybe I was lacking. It was possible. I often felt inferior. I just wanted to get away from them. But there was no place to go."

– Charles Bukowski

[sayoteacup]

I see magic in a lot of places.

The smell of ink, the sound of a bird's chirp, a smile from a stranger, the yellow pages of an old book, the feelings of nostalgia - all magic.

Though sometimes, I lose faith in it.

But then I hear the piano console me and a voice says, "The faith remains". 

Music. The sole melody of one's soul. As if your emotions from deep within came whispering to your ears. Your heart sings. The child inside you is set free. And then the music stops. But the magic remains.

Don't you sometimes wonder, how beautifully arranged musical notes can make us feel emotions so deep, but people still say magic is not real? Don't let them fool you, for you'll only need to look inside your soul and you'll know the magic is still there.

[sayoteacup]

Me and my unhealthy eating and sleeping habits and just my delusional thoughts against this world.

[sayoteacup]

“Ghosts exist. Doubt me? Remember the person you once were, he or she died a long time ago. Yet remembering what you were once scared you to death. Or those who left really haven’t left after all; they’re still haunting you. Some say, “The type of ghost it is depends on the memories. Not all ghosts are scary and evil.” To that I say, “The scariest part is not the memories you shared, but what could’ve been done to prevent their disappearance.” And there’s nothing more terrifying than falling in love with someone you never imagined would turn into a ghost. You’d bring them back from the dead if you could. As if it were one of those nightmares when your legs stop you from running, and they’re just behind the closed door, and you’re two steps away from turning the knob to let them in. Contacting them only gets you short replies like “yes” and “no.”Now they move the planchette across the board to say goodbye. But it doesn’t matter how many times they say goodbye; they keep visiting, especially when you’re alone. The friendliest kinds of ghosts scare us the most; what an odd paradox that is. The nicest ones can leave your heart heavy with yearning. The fact is that it scares you not just the time of their unexpected arrival but even more so after their disappearance. After the flashbacks, there are clear visions of what might have been. Consequently, I am creeped out, scared, befuddled, and have chills as I recollect their touch. My house is haunted.” — A.N.D my stupid little tears spilled all over the paper as I was writing this (you would’ve thought I left my window open during a rain storm)

[sayoteacup]

Little things that aren't so little

Comfortable silence. Singing along with you to a song. "Thank you." Being surprise met at the airport. Sharing a cupcake. A stranger holding the door open for you. "Text me when you land." A smile across a room. A firm yet gentle handshake. "Did you sleep well?" Letting you steal their fries. Loving the same book. The same movie. The same TV show. Texting first. A call for no reason. A deeply meant apology. "Of course I remember." A cat choosing you. A quick, friendly lick from a dog. Ice cream. "This made me think of you." A bouquet of wild flowers. "Please." Mum cooking your favourite dish. Grandparent stories. A soft towel. A comfortable pillow. Just the right blanket for the weather. "I got you some coffee." Being a good listener. The rain stopping just before you need to step out. Sharing an umbrella. An extra pair of socks. Hot chocolate. A cool breeze on a hot summer's day. An inside joke with a best friend. A warm hand. A warm heart. Meeting your own deadline. Sharing a sunset. A sunrise. A storm. Being in different places but seeing the same moon.

[sayoteacup]

I've got a thing for people who are undeniably themselves. The ones with messy hair, and even messier souls. The kinds of people who wear their hearts on their chest, and have passion in their tears. I've hot a thing for those people who laugh at their own jokes, and rejoice in their own success. It's the people who fight gor what they believe in and never let their spirit settle that are the ones for me. I'm obsessed with all the people who have the strength to remain soft, and let their fire burn hard. These are the type of people I'm in love with. These are the type of people I want in my life. These are my people.

-k.a.