The real lover is the man who can thrill you by kissing your forehead or smiling into your eyes or just staring into space.
~ Marilyn Monroe
We’re getting toward the pointy end of things with something at the office… so forgive me if all I can manage at this time is a gratuitous shot (or two) of my favourite flowers. It was a toss-up between these orchids and something I ate last Saturday at my favourite restaurant. I thought most people would prefer this. Maybe I’ll post the fish dish tomorrow. Ha.
Seriously, I love the perfection of orchids. If only life could be as vibrant, fresh and lush all the time. But no, for most of us, it’s something like once or twice a year, only when we’re on holidays. Most of the time, it’s more likely a case of feeling sub-par, sleep-deprived, a lot less than awesome.
*I’ve just noticed that the band is playing locally on 20 July. I must get back from New York City in time for this. I must-!
Sometimes life is about knowing when to simply keep on walking.
Walk on, even when your heart is telling you to stop. (Why keep going? Can’t we go back to where we were at the start?) When your mind is questioning your decision to put one foot in front of the other, and the other, again, again, again… Keep going. There you go.
When will you know that you’ve gone far enough…? When it stops hurting?
This post is dedicated to [ x ].
We are all products of our parents, family, friends, experiences, and of the life that surround us – the good, the bad, the unimaginable.
Not everyone is fortunate enough to have people who love and care for them.
I always remind myself: don’t judge a person until you’ve walked a mile in his/her boots.
The other day, I found myself thinking that people probably stay together because it’s much easier than breaking up – especially after a long time.
But for those of us who are actually happy being part of a twosome, togetherness is the best feeling.
I worry about being the one who doesn’t die first.
I am much too negative for my own good sometimes.
Listening: You’re My Rescue by Van She
It’s been just over an hour since I took this photo, and it’s turned to ‘white-out’. I can’t see anything – the buildings nor even the horizon – from where I’m sitting right now.
All night, I heard the wind howling around the sides of the apartment building, and things rattling. I woke several times feeling the cold, but I hate socks; I’m not going to put them on until I absolutely have to…
Life is like this: you’re either the person who always feels the cold, or the person who tends to feel warm more than is comfortable. You either like dogs or cats, one animal more than the other. You like summer holidays or winter ones. Your go-to drink is either beer or wine. Oysters or I-couldn’t-swallow-that-not-even-if-you-paid-me. Babies or no-thank-you. Dresses or trousers, always (I mean this in a girl sense, but, hey, if you’re a fella who fancies frocks, who am I to say?). Sleep-ins or never, not even Sundays. Slow [down] or fast, everything. Happy endings or hey-shit-happens.
I’m rambling now. I’m the person who always feels the cold. All the rest, feel free to guess.
I don’t want to find somewhere new so much as be elsewhere. I’d be quite happy to be in a familiar place.
That said, perhaps what I really want is Quality Sleep for more than six hours a night. Why is it so difficult to achieve recently?
I think I’d be quite able to see things in a different light.
Thoughts on places, and by that, I mean life’s journey itself, percolating in my head. We don’t always take the straightest route, do we? And when do we know when to stop moving, that we’ve arrived at our destination? When it’s OK to stop… sit… enjoy… snooze.
Listening: Elvis by The Rubens