I love reading poetry, old stories and articles, on some sort it triggers my mind to think and wander on its very broad sense. I think about dreams, my favourite yoghurt ice cream topped with mangoes and almond crunch, blur dreams you have when you wake up at 2 in the morning, my life onboard, midnight talks, universe, why do we have those healthy conversations in the most inconvenient way, safety, chasing the train the next day, certain matters that remains vague and unresolved, sex, fox in the forest, places and faces I’ve never seen, and thinking I can go on with this list forever. It doesn’t matter if I know the author or writer or not. It doesn’t matter if it interests me or not. A little bit of myself is turned on when everybody isn’t. And it'll be a bit of an understatement if you'll say this isn't broad. Trust me, you have no idea. It so is.
Today there are too many ideas and goals, memories, and happy thoughts, and worries, and blah blahs walking around in my mind... but my mind and heart can’t think of proper method to express these streaming thoughts.
