Reading. There are not enough words to express what I feel towards the mystical lands found in a good book. I credit all the books I read in my childhood to the reason I am still here and holding on to a little sanity. When the world is.bleak, dark, sad, or when I can’t seem to find myself…I find those missing things when I read.
Rainy Days and Rainy Nights. Close your eyes, and listen to the steady rain fall. It patters against the tin roof shielding the cars outside. It hits the window of my bedroom, sending relaxing vibes my way.
Writing. My emotions and thoughts may get stuck, but there is no better remedy than to sit down and write it all out, not stopping, no limits and no filter. Writing is a freedom.
My cat. She tries to rescue me from the shower. She greets me at the door every day when I come home from a laborious day. She snuggles next to me when I sleep, and she licks my fingers when she’s happy. She eats when I eat; even pees when I pee.
Night drives. Don’t ask questions. Just get in the car, buckle up, and enjoy the ride. Doesn’t matter where I am going; doesn’t matter how long I hit the gas. The streets are empty. The streetlights are psychedelic, and the music accompanies your thoughts as they drift away into space…
Concerts, and the crazier, the better. Trippy lights are flashing. Bodies press around you, jumping up and down, moving side to side. The bodies are screaming and crying and laughing, and you are a part of them, loving what they love. The music pumps into your veins, taking hold of your hand and not letting go.
My little brothers. Yea, they’re f**king s**theads, but there is nothing I wouldn’t do for them.
My books. We established I love reading, but we haven’t established how I like to sit at the edge of my messy bed, staring at the numerous book titles sitting neatly on an old bookshelf. Some are worn, brand new, thick, thin…their diversity fills me joy.
Poetry. The language of the soul. Sweet, mesmerizing, a friend on a page.
Thought provoking conversation. It is so hard these days to find people who carry an amount of thought, intelligence, opinion…someone who is not solely focused on lip injections, snapchat filters, and gossip of yesterday. Someone who can fire back to your unpopular words, and someone who can respect the ways of the human mind.
Sitting alone with a coffee or beer, a laptop or book, inside a cutesy, hipster mellow cafe.
A good bar, drinking a good beer, alongside good company.
Winter. There is a certain peace in the early morning when the sunrise is brisk, the jacket isn’t tight enough, and your cheeks turn red from the cold.
Starry nights. When I’m sad, alone, falling apart, I tilt my head back and look to the stars. Not to find answers or reassurance, but to remind myself how wondrous little things — things that aren’t actually little but big balls of gas millions of light years from where I stand — can be.
Thunderstorms. Does the house shake? Does the crack of thunder reflect the anger in my heart? Does it understand me? Does it make me feel powerful?
Star Wars. I grew up with these movies with my brothers. We would watch them over and over and over again to the point the three of us could reenact every movie, start to finish in absolute detail. Not only did Star Wars make the Sci-Fi loving nerd I am today, but its a happy memory I have with my little brothers when we were kids.
Loud music. Headphones, car speakers, portable systems, doesn’t matter. The music can never be loud enough. It echoes my rage, my sadness, my happiness, my whatever emotion I feel. Music reflects me, and my feelings may be bottled inside, but with loud music, they are free.
Good food. Need I to say more?
