Sadness

People said i like to dream, but i think i enjoy contemplating on sadness.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Ice with flavors

Friend told me there is a dessert house just opened near the corner of the street opposite the traffic light. She likes the mocha there. I saw from the picture, they do serve ice cream dessert, the picture looks like Baskin Robbin to me, so she told me the ice cream is home-made one. Home made . It reminds me the ice-cream i used to eat when i was little. I had never taste those ice cream for like more than 10 years? It's more like ice with flavors but it's not creamy. The ice was super finely blended, it did not taste so sweet, it was just nice. The sensation of the ice melting on my tongue i could fairly remember, and it actually quenched my thirst for water. Ice with flavors, a local made gelato style "ice-cream", i think it's already extincted by now
Read more

Superficial Symbolism vs. Connection

By the sidewalk we sat together side by side, smoking Marlboro Ice. Not in the bar, not in a cafe and not at the Starbucks that were just not too far beside us where we sat. In front of us were supposed to be a water splashing fountain that had been switched off at that hour. Not many pedestrian but just cars drove passed us rushing to go somewhere. Lights are switching off one by one. I went to x-ray again the other day, she said, while looking at the dried fountain, then she continued, The image shows it's getting bigger. It's that why there is a cut mark on your wrist? I ventured. It could be benign i said. There is constant pain in me. She replied, her palm pressed against her lower stomach. A cut could be a distraction. Can i take a closer look at the mark on your wrist? i asked. What does it matter? She dismissed my request. Away, her hand holding the cigarette. Out of sight. No. I'm just thinking. Everyone has the tendency to end their own life. Some peop...
Read more

Come on here with me

Waves quietly ran into the shore, making a distance noise in the air . Air gently touches the wind chime, loud then fades off i still can hear. Yellow moon light slant over the lonely planet, sending millions of flicking stars onto the blue horizon which is now cold silver, shine on me, stretching my slender shadow onto the old hut. An aging bench sleeps alone outside the hut, the place where we used to rest ourselves, look up into the sky, counted the stars as the two coconut trees merge in the sky.
Read more