-
I smile. I leave. I look back. Follow the feathers brought by the September wind. See where my wing has been lost for my flight has now become a clumsy walk. I am missing from my sky; my angels are raining over the world, thinking that I am astray forever. I am hearing horns calling…
-
 They’ve told me to bleed if I want to write well. They’ve told me that whatever truth I have, must be said loudly. How do I feel about that? I used to think that it was like getting undressed in front of a crowd of people, waiting for them to decide whether my body…
-
 Holding fire with bare hands and flying over the hills … My burning desires as a child. None of them are fulfilled, as you can imagine. But the mystery of the flame is still haunting me, the beauty of the flying creatures has no match. There are things we should explore from far away,…
-
If you are safe? Never. If you are in control? I’m laughing inside. Never… not even a drop, not a step, not the flutter of your lashes, not even your eyeballs running from one scenery to another, not your mind making up bright ideas, not my fingers now unleashing emotions alike with yours. Thinking that me…
-
It’s been over 10 months since she has befriended me. First, she just came over for a cup of heart race and a feeling of mild nausea. It’s OK … it must happen because of the flu medicine. I asked her to have a seat, hoping she will leave soon since her visit was unexpected…
-
I would let my hand climb on the wavy, dark sky, pointing with the tip of my finger at little shimmers that would fall on my hair. Those velvet nights were the scenery of my childhood dreams, where I would swing to the Moon, and I would grab her hands and play with her and…
-
 Seems quite far-fetched that in a world where happiness is one of the most advertised emotions, most people would do so many things – assisted by their mind – to diminish their are and end up laying the blame on other external factors for their perpetual deficit of bliss. I have done the same…
-
 I have met myself in the morning and I was this woman laying down in a wild sun, under the wing of a tree, with a smell of poppy and corn tickling my nostrils. I miss home when the clouds and rains are missing from me. I miss home when the thunders are missing…
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
THE WONDERMIND 