pacific morning

conversation over coffee is my utopia.

i will always miss those days, in which my girls and i spent most mornings on the starbucks sofa daydreaming days away, making fun of freud, abusing the abusive use of the term uncanny, keeping one another updated with one another’s news daily.

lately i have been busy catching up with them, re-visiting what i have missed out in that one-year-three-month period of time. life was always about a boyfriend, fitting my little self in his busy schedule, betting everything on every friday night, crying over silly thoughts on silly girls’ silly talks. people told me that was how a normal relationship was like. while i was clinging to a sofa in pacific coffee, reading neruda and sylvia plath over a hot chocolate this morning, i realized how most days in those days did not count in terms of my own sense of being.

these days i am myself again. i don’t have to wait until friday to dress up and be pretty. i can do it everyday now, just as i did one year and three months ago. i wake up every morning feeling free and dandy. this morning my mom looked at me and said, “oh you look so beautiful.” some weeks ago she was only asking me why i always looked so tired.

miro said,“the simplest things give me ideas.”
dear life, i love you in a spanish way.

quiero hacer contigo
lo que la primavera hace con los cerezos. - neruda