rurishion

The first time I remember hearing Debussy’s Clair de lune and Tchaikovsky’s Dance of the Sugar-Plum Fairy was during games of Solitaire,  Hearts, and FreeCell with my sister in the old desktop computer at home.

The only thing I'm proud of is my cooking. My writing needs more exercise, though.

My mom, as I've seen is not like a typical mother. My dad, in his own way, is a different father.

There came a minor tremor a few minutes ago.

Meditation is like the bridge connecting the spirit and the physical. It's where they meet. (Written:  13Dec2019)

Hey, one more step then? Just one little bit more, my stars. Just one little bit more. (Written: 12Dec2019)

I'm holding on to the promise that things will get better. I sleep tonight with a smile. (Written:  12Dec2019)

When I close my eyes I come to see the perfect image describing the feeling that's been nagging me for the past few days.

The air is pretty dry today; limp, bloated.  As if exhausted even before the official holiday begins. If it's possible for a day to have a migraine, I wonder if it already has today.

I don't think what happens is 'love at first sight'.

The chill this evening isn't painful. It's comforting, as if lulling people to sleep;  like a whisper that makes them smile.