6th november 2016

Reads: 80  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
just what went through my mind that early morning.

Submitted: November 07, 2016

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Submitted: November 07, 2016



I exist at the time when the world sleeps. Only quiet awaits me here, and color.

The sound of my footsteps echoes questions about myself while trees outside wave their branches in the wind, as if partaking in some sort of gentle dance.

A little sparrow approaches a branch and gracefully lands, the branch swaying slightly to accomodate it.

Maybe this is what I'm looking for.. stillness in movement, movement in stillness.. but I'm starting to think this is something only nature can have.

Some tiny insects bump into the window pane, endlessly, never to be discouraged. I wish I had that determination in life.

I sit down for breakfast. I'm not hungry.. but jam wins me over. It's good, made of some weird citrus fruit. It gets me thinking about how now I don't like straightforward tastes as much as before. When I was a kid as long as something was sweet, even horrifyingly so, it still tasted like heaven to me.

This kind of loneliness is good; allows me to exist for a while.

The sun is now behind a big cloud. I think I understand now where the expression "a cloud's silver lining" comes from.

On the wall, there's an air photo of this house and the surroundings. I think with our attempts to force nature in regular, geometrical shapes, man's somewhat depriving it of what it is. We're playing with the soul of every plant and tree. It's kind of sad. Especially because it is still somewhat pleasing to the eye.

Deep sounds, gurgles, engines, startle me, remindr that I still have neighbors and that it's time for them to start working in the fields.

It gets windy.. and a draft enters through the fireplace, while the house shrieks. I hear the familiar footfalls of mum getting downstairs. The magic is broken. A new day is starting.

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