Tuesday, September 01, 2015

"It looks like this storm will be a doozy" - Anne of Avonlea

"That's just how I wonder about the world and its beautiful covered mysteries. I've never experienced the permeated feeling whenever I read how another person's mind works. Learning how to not  to blame everything gratuitously and being so judgemental. When did we become so harsh?"


Just before the dust fell to the ground as if the pile of dry leaves knew it would hit towards the gravity. As well as my mind works like the rushing blood veins trying to caught up in miseries miserably. Sometimes we fall in love with things strange to the eyes of this world. Like falling in love with autumn leaves, wilted roses, dusky skies, silent pathways. Just as when you see the birdies are trying to break through the overcast. Sinking in the white sheet blankets on a sweather-weather kinda day. Call me a pluviophile because I see the beauty in petrichor, the smell of the earth after rain. All these chemicals stirred up by the weather can carry messages; because I am in love with the rain and its scent. 

Classic books and a cup of tea, and my attraction towards it wouldn't change any less; Lucy Maud Montgomery will forever be the swirling cricket in the diminishing scent. My all time favorite poet, Sir Edgar Allan Poe, the true genius shudders at incompleteness — imperfection — and usually prefers silence to saying the something which is not everything that should be said. Or incandescently Mr.Bennet's possession in Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. That's just how I wonder about the world and its beautiful covered mysteries. I've never experienced the permeated feeling whenever I read how another person's mind works. Learning how to not  to blame everything gratuitously and being so judgemental. When did we become so harsh?

As the dim lights crept in a suburban side. The clinging scheme in a boldness of the dark seems like they're owning the world to their own.  How can a person forget their childhood? I used to had mine catching the butterflies, not in the stomach but around the front garden. The butterflies were put in a glass box and I'd observing them all the rest evening. I do remember how my eyes expanding as I crooked a smile to saw a beautiful chrysalis coming out inside the box. And when it came to a time where I really had to let go of my little Anne, because even in a younger age, nature taught us to be sincere.We used to talk in a low voices and running as I said "1...2...3...Peek-a-boo!" and my old flanel shirt was full of chocolate milk stains. But we didn't care at all. Because all we could think is getting new adventures before the sun set. Where in the world I could live without freedom hierarchy when the arches of the ancestors built were all ruined by our generation?

But then again, love comes in different meanings. Maybe this world is too fast to understand.

Just so you know, 
I am in love with the rain and its scent.
And you.

2 comments:

Hi, thanks for visiting! ~^^
I read every comment and I do blog walking too.
Please use good words, I really appreciate!

Regards,
Febby