longing

Today I woke up late. I wore my regular chapstick and ate a piece of dark chocolate for breakfast.

Drifting in and out of a memory——

The clouds drifting; hid the sunshine behind its vast heaviness. Now, it’s become the whole sky marking it as lazy Sunday afternoon.
I wonder where the sun has gone to play — East or West?

The wind shrieks in silence as if trying to tell me a secret.

It tells me about the desire of the heart that wants to come alive. Maybe that is where the sun has gone to hide?
The rustic and hungry desire.

Or

Is it a longing? I think it’s a longing.
Every moment seems to take me to a distance, far and further.
Longing is a timeless feeling.

We can long for the past (the moment), the present (ourselves), the future (us).

The destination—
Longing for the next time I can meet him.
And now I have ended up in this café. I asked for a dark roast drip coffee.

In a long time I wanted Nothing: but a plain dark coffee.

The music is playing puppetry. Or maybe it’s trying to bring down the rain. It’s been drizzling. Only a drizzle, sometimes, a few heavy drops.
I feel it on my chest moving to the tip of my nose and the winds twirl around.
I’ve been dreaming in and out of moments.

The fleeting moments & I fleet backwards and eventually nowhere and I am dropped all at once.

I look around and the longing comes over stronger. It’s rippling slowly.

i have been walking a labrynth.