Archive for November 2013

Too many of us are so quick, so quick to judge. That some kind of lives are a certain blessing, others a certain misery. And dare not the blessed feel sorry of themselves, dare not they complain, dare not they feel envy.

From the cries of the poor souls whose sufferings so obvious it makes us cringe to the secretly grim hearts of the ladies and gentlemen lonely in their cold, spacious houses, all we know is just that each of us are just as equally wounded as everyone. We just wound differently, some deep and subtle, some exposed, some clearly seen and some hidden. But noone is free of scars, noone is not pained.

And maybe this is just the curse of life, that all of us, from the ones we long to be to the ones to whom we always feel sorry, we're all sometimes sad, sometimes happy. And while thoughts of grace should never, never leave our minds upon thinking of ourselves, we should be allowed to sometimes accept that we're all wounded. Maybe sometimes, sometimes it's okay to feel sorry for ourselves.

Food porn guys, food porn.



Seafood paella. YAALLAH ENAK BANGET INI KAYANYA (yes, I do feel the urgency to use capslock here). Anything that can feed a whole village and has seafood all over its topping goes straight, straight to the top of my bucket list of good food.

Having spent almost my entire life under the scorching and punishing sun, I thought I'd be forgiven to find your cold shoulder enticing.

I'm summer-bound, you're cold.

Sonder
n. a realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own.

which is a very profound moment in your life, a time well-spent, a very intriguing realization.

That each and every person walking on this earth has its own unique perception of the world that revolves around them. That this one world we live in, is actually billions different kind of world, each in the eye of the beholder. That there is a multitude of lives, stories, occurrences happening all at the same time. Long history, different lives that we all carry.
Yours is not the only one, and to you only it is the most important one.
And somehow it's incredible that these stories that pass by us each day, they are just mute, and silent, and unknown. It's incredible that the buzz of the world sounds so ordinary, that those stories are even able to pass unnoticeably.
Take a moment and sonder.

The clearest view is always, always from the outer circle, seeing thing as a whole, glasses not tinted, details barely seen and not overbearing.
Like it or not, the inner view is always rose-tinted. Romanticising.
Keep your feet standing on both side of the circle. To see, and moreso, to understand. To be in love and not be blinded. Taking the best of both world.