city hall time, 18:20

Often do we find ourselves looking for things to amaze us
For things so rarely beautiful that it haunts our deepest passions
Lusting for joy and craving for it most evidently
Searching for things that would caress your deepest senses
As if introducing pain and love, and depriving it, too, at the same time
Even instantly.
We soak ourselves in calmness and ecstasy
Trying to bring back days immemorial
Trying to live with both suicide and immortality
And to find the art of beautiful comfort in sadness?
I doubt anyone can try any more harder.

snapped ginger

once again you spend your day dreaming about fairies from a not-so-distant land
of rainy thursday afternoons and warm cacao
of where things would take you,
or where they'd bring you back
of purple inks and black parchment
of sling bags and shooting stars
of brown paper bag memories and yellow brick road destinations
uncertain whether you would want again or not to wake up with the same nostalgic sigh.