soft and secure

She gazed out her window into the quiet mist. Swift streams of rainwater softly slipped across the window pane. The people outside fogged up the air they breathed as they walked and left little trails of crushed leaves that had crisply broken beneath their feet. The branches of the trees silently danced with the cool October wind and the birds whistled and murmured among those soon to be fallen leaves. Inside the warmth of her light gray walls, where the fire crackled in the corner and thick vapor left her warm mug, she read.

November 13, 2020 at 7:38 PM

why do we so desire to be known? why do we want to be heard and understood? what need makes us talk on and on about ourselves? is it selfish that we put and see ourselves first?

being genuinely interested in other people is what will get you friends because everyone wants to be heard and seen. but why? i know what i love to do and see, why do i have to tell the whole world? what makes me want to share it instead of just keeping it to myself? why is it fundamental that we give parts of ourselves to others for what we hope is safekeeping? why do we trust who we are in the hands of those we confide in? we want to be heard and seen and understood and desired. why can we not just stand on our own? what makes us so rely on the high opinions of those around us who also desire the same things and seek to achieve them in their own ways? time is the most valuable thing we use, so why do we let it get away? why don’t we enjoy every moment to the fullest? i’d like to live hard in every minute of life. never halfway living, because that is just halfway dying. i don’t want to be mediocre or luke warm, i want to be all in.

if i showed you this, i am also seeking your approval. but why can’t i just keep it to myself? content with my own thoughts and reasonings? what makes me yearn to share what i write and feel?

fresh

this is something new for me. i’m still figuring out how it works and i’m finding myself and what’s important to me. this is a creative outlet for me to express myself authentically. i needed someplace where i could be raw and genuine and wrong. here is my new space

Breakfast at my House

During the week we’re often walking out the door with a coffee in one hand and slice of toast in the other, but on weekends breakfast is never rushed. It’s a late affair, sometimes spilling over to lunch, with lots of reading and chatter in between courses of fruits, poached eggs, honey and toast. One of our favorite things we like to serve when friends are visiting are buckwheat blueberry pancakes.

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