Hung Up On Italian.

I don't know why I'm suddenly aching to go to a land I've never seen before. Whose face and moods I can only paint in my head with the help of the music that comes from its bosom.

I haven't felt like this in a very long time.

Something that is akin to sadness.

Music that is so visual. And all those visions- swallowed by the screaming of the sea and the heat of a day I have never experienced on its shore.

Kitchen Musings.

Each moment should be celebrated. (And) I have learned to make myself as the occasion... as vain as that may sound. Haha.

I have learned to decorate my valleys with brightly-colored banderitas. Though some of my alleys sometimes beg for sun and absent gloom.

I'm learning to mingle with the crowd... and not to stay in my solitary corners.

The Out-Of-Nowhere Blast.

I was just thinking of the things I have long-ago branded as my unshakable convictions...

Sigh... and I wondered if my "questioning" them now is a form of betrayal... but I have learned to stop feeling guilty over my (certain) feelings and thoughts.

Just an inevitable metamorphosis, I guess. .. but it's the same caterpillar.:)

Wooden Planks That I Love.

No, it isn't like that at all... at least not on the actual surface.

No look of despair nor indescribable anguish crosses over their faces. Voices do not really waver so. He does not really roughly take her into his arms and sigh as if it's the last time. No, he does not really suddenly leave her in a now-cold and absent embrace.

Sigh. Not really...

But if the mind can project its workings... this is how it will register on the white screen of reality.