I sit atop my roof

The night-sky, with its many luminous freckles smiling down at me.

She sends a light breeze.

Embracing my arms, it feels like summer.

Gliding past my legs, they welcome with glee.

And cupping my cheeks with motherly love.

Her gentle breathing, I smell the melancholy of days past.

Flowers and dirt.

Childlike laughter and crickets.

And when I awaken I find myself still laying there, the morning dew a substitute blanket.

The eolian sound, whitenoise of the night,

Gone, now back to its usual breating.

My writing smudged and bleeding through the pages like those damned creases in my brain.

Not knowing what is real and what is not. Memories melting into eachother.

And as I slowly lean on my elbows to watch the sun rise like a phoenix reborn from it's ashes, I sense a bittersweet ending.

I kiss my heartstrings for they keep me warm.

Even if I know it won't last forever.

I sleep, therefore I outrun the passage of time.

minor thoughts

For once I can actually feel the cold summer breeze against my arms as I type. looking out the window I see an endless void of darkness, and I truly feel alone. Part of the ocean of nothingness. In this small physical space right outside of reality.

The sounds of dusk and the soft whirring of my computer. No worries of other people, just me being aware of my own presence. And I feel at peace.

I run my hand across my arms, now cooled. And I take a deep breath.

As I mourn the end of my childhood which is fast approaching, I sit and reminice of those same summer nights I spent playing the games that made me happy and gave me a means of distraction. I feel. I feel at peace. truly at peace during these few hours of the night.

I fail to see whether i'm in a mere delusion or not.

The smell of petrichor infests my mind. It's earthy roots envelop me. And as my mind begins to wander, I wonder if my assigned fate shall grant me to capture this moment in the future once more.

I'm not a people person, far from it.

You can never truly describe a feeling through words. Everyone interprets it a different way. That's what makes humans so complicated.

My site, just like my personality, is seemingly in a constant state of limbo. I don't know what I want.

How will I use my full potential when I don't even recognise myself.

It never seems to line up with how I feel, no matter how hard I try.

I am a hypocrite, for I do not follow the same advice I give to others.

Life is a series of intricate routs, ever-changing, all leading to a different storyline. Every choice, every word you utter has meaning in itself. And will shape not only your future, but of those around you aswell.