There's something about the smell of wet earth that gets me excited and at the same time makes me feel calm. Inside I feel an overwhelming urge to pick up a hunk of dirt and inhale the aroma of minerals and moisture into my nostrils, into my lungs, into my essence.
Call it akward or a geophagy pica-- I call it love.
On another simple note, I'm terribly lonely and in need of some deep-meaningful company.
au revoir, beaux
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
I seriously love the way you word things.
When I read your writing, I feel myself travelling back to a time where the smell of wet earth would lovingly caress my nostrils and lungs and I would smile in utter bliss. I always believe that the simplicity of certain things...such as smelling the flowers or hearing the birds chirp happily in the morning...is the token of happiness. That is love. But here's another thing about simplicity...there are more intricacies to it than what meets the eye.
Don't be lonely. I know, I shouldn't be talking when I, myself, have experienced that during nights of restless sleep. You have me. You have Laddu. You have yourself and your family. Sometimes, loneliness can be our friend. Whenever I sink into my loneliness mood, I become more introspective and learn things about myself that I have never known. Wow, I am rambling some incorehent mumbo jumbo. I apologize. But the point of this comment is, you write beautifully and I love you! Thanks for being you!
Post a Comment