Universe, I’m ready

Put all your love on me (:

Where’s my diary?

So, I lost my diary. And, posting my word vomit here on the web is dangerous.

Freedom

That’s what I want.

And then?

All my fears are baseless. But, I still feel scared.

I cannot wait until my eventual farewell to society. Not death, oh goodness, never. Life is too gorgeous. I’ll be off someday, to my reality. Here, I feel like a fraud.

Screams only inside the head lol

Ugh

Waterloo

My longing to belong and learned ability to swiftly claim home has always had me experience strong detachment blues come time to say goodbye.

My geese, foxes, deer. My groundhogs, squirrels and ladybugs. My birds all of red, blue, white, orange, yellow, brown and grey. My fireflies, frogs, snails and fish. Even my bees, flies and spiders. My rocks, stream, grass and trees. My buildings for study and sleep. You will be missed, dearly.

As I leave I’m thinking how my diary accounts memories only in waves of smiles and sorrows – my highs and lows. But, in Waterloo is where the dailiness of my student life, will forever be preserved.

In Miami

I am a stranger to the city, but here in Miami, I feel a strong sense of home. Just like Van Gogh, I’m conditioned to a frenetic search for love and homeliness.

The people here smile at me, dance with me. The sun shines on me and blankets me with warmth. The birds here glide in circles above, then they sing to me. Joining the birds are the rustling trees, the whistling wind and the babbling water. It’s an unmatched choir.

When I sit by the bay, a family of wild manatees greets me. The dogs have love in their eyes. The lizards and cats patiently, beautifully pose for me. They let me capture them with all my senses.

Dark matter

I barely like anyone, because people hardly understand me. So I express myself to the unknown.

Rebellion

My most favourite part about visiting the sea is the eagerly inviting pull of its waves while I stand on the edge of the salty water.

The cold wave always engulfs my feet and pulls me strong when it retreats as if it wants me whole.

Then my feet tickle when the sand anchors them like it knows where I belong.

I feel gratitude for the protection, I feel comfort on land. But, what if I was meant to be a mermaid?