i read somewhere to let july be july, let august be august, you can still find peace and grow in the wild just like daisies, peonies, and roses.

June 30. Love.

“did you drink enough water today?”

i took my morning coffee today just like the usual. iced coffee. bitter. no sugar (life is too sweet already).

july; soft and sweet.

poetry is untranslatable like the whole of art; it’s abstract sometimes yet still beautiful.

van gogh’s Starry Night

monet’s Water Lilies (French: Nymphéas [nɛ̃.fe.a])

da vinci’s Mona Lisa

michelangelo’s The Creation of Adam

and if you ask me what my favorite work of art is

i would say “books”

paulo coelho’s the Alchemist

first day of july

we are all a little weird, living a life that is a little weird too. someday you could find yourself stumble upon words stranger wrote about you who didn’t even know a bit about who you are nor who you were yet you crumbled and the world feels like fixated towards you and only you. you might feel the world revolve around you; one thing we might forget, it doesnt, it never does; nothing really matters. 

perhaps this is what it means to be alive.

it’s july, the night may feel endless and yet the moon finds us each night; it always welcomes me with open arms and holds both of my hands so tightly as it wont let me go. (all thanks to you)

my nights always feel warm as warm as the sunbeams on the ocean water in summertime. a calm soothing voice whispers “everything’s gonna be okay” (all thanks to you). 

suddenly the world feels warm, no burden, and so does my heart; it took long but i could finally say “im at peace”; it says so much with so little; a stillness within the heart regardless the storm of whats happening outside. a moment when the heart isn’t racing, the mind isnt chasing, just being.

daisies, pink tulips, red roses, white lilies, fresh peonies; a whole garden you plant just for me. as for july, for the warmth of the sunlight in the garden, for the moon that always finds its way home. i sit among the flowers under the moonlight; the sky above looks so clear in blue with the moon hanging so bright like a lamp, i wrote a long letter to the moon about flowers and about you as well. you are that one of a kind who know how much i love writing about everything nonsense; silly thoughts, random feelings. 

alchemist;

books, perfumes, golds, and miracles

l’été à la mer

dans le souffle des cieux

Les vagues écrivent

et l’été me tient

d’une main apaisée