moonycchiato

the closest thing to youth that i've ever had

beloved best friend used to associate me with this flower back when i was romantically in love with him, years ago, and its name turned into mine on every social media. he's now practically a brother to me, the one i could lean on and the one who i hope could always do the same to me. i wish him only the kindest thing in the world.

my late grandfather lives in every cup of hot milk tea that i have brewed. the steam is his heartbeat. the overly sweet condensed milk is the pure and deep affection he never properly learned how to dig out for us. the fragrant jasmine tea is the december rainy mornings that we spend together and all the dusty books we've shared. and the handle of the mug is our promise not to live long, but to live blessed.

have a framed picture of her on my writing desk and it was the very same frame that used to have a pic of a deity that i used to devote myself to in it. there were times when i could feel her presence in my silent dreams, like i was the hierophant of a temple that worships her as our goddess in my previous lifetime. my admiration for her and her work has long surpassed the ordinary limit. i would tear apart my own ribs to sacrifice my heart for her.

to live is to look for luck / to live is to believe in luck / to live is to embrace your luck / to live is the luck

never visited even once but basically the city where my soul actually belongs to. waiting for the right time to pick her up, though i'm quite afraid that it won't be easy to convince her to leave her hometown... my skin and bones yearn for its cradle, too, after all.