"his laughter is deafening, I tell myself, as that melody plays over and over in my ears, almost like a cassette that simply cannot stop. Nearly tearing my ears apart with my own fingernails hasn't worked, and drowning myself in drugs hasn't helped much either. even when I walk through the quietest corner of my garden, all I can hear is his laughter, and the tears start to fall because, in my misery, I have become painfully vulnerable to the memory of what it was like to have him by my side".
his laughter is deafening, I tell myself, as that melody plays over and over in my ears, almost like a cassette that simply cannot stop. Nearly tearing my ears apart with my own fingernails hasn't worked, and drowning myself in drugs hasn't helped much either.
even when I walk through the quietest corner of my garden, all I can hear is his laughter, and the tears start to fall because, in my misery, I have become painfully vulnerable to the memory of what it was like to have him by my side.
this one stays. the part about becoming vulnerable in your misery - that's the real thing, isn't it.
is it his actual laughter that replays, or is it more the feeling of missing him? because the way you describe it, it sounds like both are running at once.
the garden part. you walk somewhere quiet to get away and it doesn't work.
Music doesn't define how old your soul is, but it defines the character of who you are right now.
THE secret of whispering forest Chapter 2 Now available
On the high cliff, an old rock house, its windows open to the sea — and on the shaky bridge, a young man, eyes clear as the ones upon the cross. His smile brought a thousand lights; his eyes struck the deepest insight. Years passed, yet in the sleepless nights that smile stayed, unbidden. When those eyes pierced inside mine, only a small sigh was left — the one thing a heart could feel. Nothing has changed by the open sea, only my heart twitches for those clear eyes, wishing someday they glance
A tiny raindrop, with a plain little mind, falling from the sky, wavering in the wind, as millions of others alike, wonders where the land would be. Swirling in the breeze, with a sweet, sweet dream, it dashes into a seemingly wonderful stream — past forests, humming in chorus, then splashes and thrashes into the vast sea. Lost now, it stares at dolphins and whales in awe, chasing swarms of swordfish in a dazzle, gliding through glitters in the warm rays of sun, until it lifts and dances on th
The secret of the whispering forest Chapter 1
When will we ever find peace ? What is the price for peace that it is so hard to get ? When will government let us live in peace ? I wish we all are less selfish.. but what can i say as a selfish being that i am
It wasn't about two months; I just wished you'd be beside me, if only for that one day.
A portrait of an autumn afternoon. "May your grace be eternal And may the hummingbirds fly free In the yellowish sky Of this Mabon afternoon"