tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42094489275183954632024-02-19T15:50:58.673+11:00dying sighsLeana F Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04588643321538382068noreply@blogger.comBlogger509125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209448927518395463.post-34123670238892813052016-11-28T21:19:00.002+11:002017-01-26T00:39:19.728+11:00crystallized carbon Let the pearls outlast the shell, let it fuse with carbon, and under the pressure in the sand beneath leagues of sea, become diamonds that only sink with time into depths unknown. Night beneath saltwater, just like the night sky and its stars, sands in pitch black with lost gems in its innumerable body.Leana F Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04588643321538382068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209448927518395463.post-59502820387865538032016-11-16T15:09:00.004+11:002016-11-16T15:10:49.738+11:00.Aku berbicara dengan alam<br />
<div>
mengusung harapan</div>
<div>
menanti jawapan </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
dari semesta yang riuh</div>
<div>
dengan sepi manusia</div>
<div>
yang menyangkakan</div>
<div>
sakit itu sakti,</div>
<div>
seni yang suci.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Leana F Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04588643321538382068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209448927518395463.post-11937620148873817332016-11-16T14:58:00.002+11:002017-01-26T00:39:55.393+11:00the world looks better through instagram pictures<div style="text-align: justify;">
Prettier, happier. Like nothing ever bothers you and you're doing okay.</div>
Leana F Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04588643321538382068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209448927518395463.post-27981887609629647832016-11-14T02:11:00.002+11:002016-11-14T02:11:40.448+11:00hope to godOne last week, Five more days. And after, to happier things, I hope.Leana F Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04588643321538382068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209448927518395463.post-21148033761623114032016-11-13T23:00:00.000+11:002017-01-26T00:39:44.071+11:00ramparts<div style="text-align: justify;">
I suppose I've always thought that time, promises, things done, reaffirmed over and over with sincere words, would culminate into something untouchable... that they would form the permanence I so desired. Apparently not. One could do so much and feel so much and still end up being just a footnote; summarized so briefly that it demeans all, cheapens all that I have ever committed my very soul to.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
One could love, but it does not ensure one is also <i>loved</i>. So now I look upon the remains of my Walls, how it has been breached by not the strangers I so cautiously steer away, but from within.</div>
Leana F Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04588643321538382068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209448927518395463.post-3250407529659000222016-11-12T00:57:00.002+11:002016-11-12T21:08:51.631+11:00DoaSebilah perasaan, seperca rintihan,<br />
yang hanya kata-kata hati<br />
mampui tinta ke kota langit<br />
laungkan ke dada angkasa<br />
kemudian bersatu dengan udara,<br />
dipanjatkan ke kayangan;<br />
<br />
menemukan Dia <br />
menemukan maaf,<br />
kasih, dan pengampunan.Leana F Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04588643321538382068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209448927518395463.post-64626960314892550362016-11-11T20:54:00.002+11:002016-11-11T20:56:19.457+11:00pacemaker<div style="text-align: justify;">
Naturally, one would like to be explained to, to believe that the reasons as to why things happen to us will be unveiled in the immediate future... because otherwise things do not make 'sense', it adds up to our anxieties and discontent. But life's not like that, we don't always get explanations, no great reveals, no nothing. Life isn't rational (to our human faculties), it is not a persona we can hold accountable and make demands to, assign faults to. The question of faith fits here, the cupped palm that holds us. The irrationality of life makes for piety, for belief but that's not my subject matter right now. I'm talking about the <i>whys, </i>the need for answers when there is none to be gotten.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's futile, but it's there, niggling away at the back of my mind.</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Then, there is the question of self-autonomy, one's <i>Will</i>. To what extent are we capable of governing our actions? Is it exponential to one's belief that one is in control? or maybe we're not supposed to even grasp at the illusion of control, rather, to be bouyant and surf the waves that buffets us like flotsam at sea. Life is a journey afterall... the concept of acceptance being the great storms, <i>trials</i>, that visits.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I feel like anarchy is built-in into me. They call it the 'Nafs' don't they... heedlessness, always making the wrong choices, consciously so. Because sometimes I feel like I set bylaws for my heart only for it to be ripped apart, torn down, by my own self.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I can't help it. I keep wondering <i>why </i>I end up here, if it was by my own consent, if I did my own heart upon myself. How much of our relations to the world is voluntary, how much of it is destiny, and how much of it is pure brain chemistry?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Ultimately, the heart runs its own beat. It's not an instrument. We do not play its rhythm.</div>
</div>
Leana F Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04588643321538382068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209448927518395463.post-73661302865309541332016-11-10T01:16:00.003+11:002016-11-10T02:55:16.894+11:00.<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: justify;">My perception of the world is deeply personal. I wage war with my ideals, flay myself alive, repeatedly, for all the failings I am aware I commit. Maybe I like to suffer, who knows? It's very selfish of me to hold things in such deep regard, it is unfair, but isn't that the ironic nature of Justice? That there is a right and wrong, even when things are all gray?</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: justify;">Regardless, I would rather suffer the consequence of being this inflexible than be a wayward, hollow being incapable of knowing meaning... dismissing all as superficial, impersonal. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I will be as I am. I will not be less.</div>
Leana F Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04588643321538382068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209448927518395463.post-32680533158467291962016-11-04T00:32:00.002+11:002016-11-04T00:35:12.851+11:00<div style="text-align: justify;">
In life, sometimes you just gotta say Fuck You to people while staring them in the eye. On another note, I fantasize about <i>not</i> having to drive all the damned way to Seremban day in day out anymore. That would be a good start to a new phase in my career.</div>
Leana F Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04588643321538382068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209448927518395463.post-22752670067123184162016-11-03T00:55:00.003+11:002016-11-03T02:56:05.519+11:00ReposeLike the pendulum of a metronome one can swing between extremes of a spectrum and only passingly feel that balanced centered calm.<br />
<br />
Many mistake the need that drives them are motivated towards affection, ambition and a myriad of other emotions or worldly things when really the essence of that elusive, endless want has always and will always be for repose —which is divine in nature.<br />
<br />
The calm amidst joy, the calm amidst control, even at the contradictory apex of a thrill there is repose.<br />
<br />
Life is riddled with anxiety. Repose; that momentary stillness, is the pinnacle of satiation and its constant absence can only be described as torture.Leana F Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04588643321538382068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209448927518395463.post-49621235259073107962016-11-02T01:57:00.002+11:002016-11-02T02:00:44.130+11:00Tanah TinggiBanjaran, kau yang menjadi persinggahan<br />
<div>
makhluk-makhluk kayangan –yang abadi</div>
<div>
yang indah, yang tertib mengusung rahayu</div>
<div>
dari pintu-pintu puri jauh di awangan–</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
Dimuka bumi ini, </div>
<div>
dimana tersimpan tawa?<br />
dimana pintasan ke syurga?</div>
Leana F Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04588643321538382068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209448927518395463.post-47155500463258725862016-10-06T02:50:00.001+11:002016-10-06T02:50:07.260+11:00Goodbye Starthe black stretches on<br />
<div>
reaches out</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;">in this pitch of silence</span></div>
<div>
this never-ending note of dark;</div>
<div>
upon bended knee</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: "helvetica neue light" , , "helvetica" , "arial" , sans-serif;"> I bow to the night.</span></div>
<div>
<br />
(August, 2016)</div>
Leana F Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04588643321538382068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209448927518395463.post-30984041975284551272016-09-30T23:20:00.002+10:002016-09-30T23:20:29.308+10:00Not made of your expectations<div style="text-align: justify;">
It is okay if the world doesn't know, if it judges you by what it knows, holds you captive in the confines of what they believe you in your position should be grateful for –just let them be. What do they know about you and the things you treasure in your heart, the hurts you bury, the wishes you desire... the world <i>doesn't </i>know.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Let the world trample this image of you that they see. It is not you it demeans. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
You are not the world's expectations of you, you do not need the approval of people who think you should be happy when you are not, you do not need to <i>explain </i>the flaws of your character... justify them so that you're able to make yourself worthy of being weak...</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
You are human and just as you are, you are capable of <i>strength</i>. Your dignity is <i>always </i>yours. Let them be. </div>
<br />
<br />Leana F Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04588643321538382068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209448927518395463.post-91723534717122188832016-09-23T02:31:00.001+10:002016-09-23T02:35:36.350+10:00Brave on<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">You know what, I refuse to feel defeated. I'm brave enough for this world.</span>Leana F Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04588643321538382068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209448927518395463.post-15240980500191597102016-09-19T22:48:00.001+10:002016-11-12T01:02:25.860+11:00Kupohon<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Tuhan, kupohon</span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">lembutkanlah mereka</span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">jiwa-jiwa yang ketagih</span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">kasih hamba-hambamu</span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">yang sendiri lelah dengan </span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
</div>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">malam yang berpanjangan</span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<i>(Emergency Department, </i>Seremban 2016)</div>
Leana F Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04588643321538382068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209448927518395463.post-90271239221110941292016-09-19T22:18:00.001+10:002016-09-23T00:17:58.259+10:00always on the night shift<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I turn out the lights, lie awake, thinking shadowy thoughts, breathing slow, and let my heavy heart wander. Then I rouse at the call to prayer, step into the shower, let the water run on cold —still wallowing in the dark. Maybe it's an attempt to manifest the symbolic, maybe I'm just tired of being tired, whatever my motives, I then prayed, enveloped in darkness, my eyes having adjusted to the monochromatic world of the lightless; hoping Light would visit me from within. </span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 22px;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Later, I will leave again, drive into the night, where the bright lights of the ED is blinding, where human sickness awaits, continues, endlessly.</span></div>
Leana F Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04588643321538382068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209448927518395463.post-37858121187453779302016-09-11T14:32:00.006+10:002016-09-11T14:37:12.238+10:00the dark of your eyes; wary of me<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
disaat aku melihat</div>
</div>
matamu seolah berlindung<br />
dari aku<br />
hatiku terdiam<br />
<br />
kata-kata, sahabat<br />
aku, kau khianati<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>–Mata, 2016</i></div>
<i> </i><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Words, they weigh, penetrate, take <i>root. </i>I remind myself that withdrawing after being brazen with words is the epitome of cowardice. One needs to own up to one's words; every last <i>syllable</i> of it. The consequence of writing raw is that it doesn't matter if you only meant your feelings in that moment and regret it after. Once read, you, the author is unredeemable. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Damning words will damn you. So stay true to the initial rush of your muses, be <i>brave. </i>You have been set alight, so continue to burn. </div>
Leana F Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04588643321538382068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209448927518395463.post-50458662457632697292016-09-10T21:45:00.001+10:002016-09-11T14:38:32.433+10:00In memoriam<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: start;">
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">A pause, a moment of suspended breath, where I find myself in a memory of light shafts on white ceilings, cobbled stones darkened by rainwater, alleyways full of wind halting my walk; and other warmer scenes of S. sitting on the carpeted floor against her bed, the fan pulled out of the back room finally of use in the summer heat, blowing the strands of her jet black hair about her white forehead into her brown eyes, and I, cross-legged on my bed, back to the cool wall, tapping away at the keyboard, sealing memory into eternity.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Days and days of sunlight, blue skies, brisk weather and countless cups of shared coffee with our twin lipstick stains around its edges. Days and days of songs about youth, of my witnessing S's lovegames, while I indulge in my ever permanent devotion to being singly poetic and ever single. Days and days of films projected against the pristine wall of our shared room, the whirring of the electric heater, like crickets in Autumn.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Soft, tender and vibrant; night walks in the city, aimlessly wandering the streets to listen to buskers, people watch, and finally crashing at Sofy's place. Me watching the two women going about their wicked friendship which ran hot-cold-hot, too familiar, like lovers (but not) in their intricate dance of secrecy, fondness for each other's beauty; the play of womanly egos. Morning afters where the kitchen is filled with music, as they cook and dance, while I sip my drink and enjoy their light-heartedness.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Lazy days of staying in bed, talking to S. in voices muffled by our quilts, making plans for the weekend, plans to the library, plans to buy grocery at the market; for domestic youthful pleasures. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I have committed no other person to my memory as I have S. Her personality, physicality, hopes and dreams –all as familiar to me as my own. She is a moving image in technicolour so pervasive with happiness that I cannot part any conception of her from the feeling. While I'm at it, similarly, I have committed no other person to my soul as I have M. M. who is my prose, poetry, ever-friend.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Younger days; freedom so concentrate it leaves a taste on the tip of the tongue.</span></div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Another beat, another breath, the spell is broken. Reality rushes in, time catches up and the present is restored. Now is now. The satisfying weight of nostalgia nestles neatly upon my heart, which smiles and aches. I walk on, with dregs of bittersweet joy clinging at the corners of my mouth, dimpling my rosy cheeks.</span></div>
</div>
</div>
<div>
</div>
Leana F Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04588643321538382068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209448927518395463.post-68235407170587557792016-09-05T22:58:00.003+10:002016-09-11T14:17:06.285+10:00reflections<div style="text-align: justify;">
Sometimes I hurt so much I wish I've never met you. I then would never have discovered the muses, attached to their songs and words ideations of you, would have never <i>known, </i>never <i>wanted, </i>never suffered.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
All light casts shadows, and once it leaves, abandons you to darkness.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I choose here to be blind to the myriad of joys I've known and cherish (still) to instead openly wallow. Just for a moment, I'll sit with reality while we give each other hard looks over imaginary coffee.</div>
Leana F Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04588643321538382068noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209448927518395463.post-66083680463498883802016-09-05T22:35:00.000+10:002016-09-05T22:35:11.910+10:00tanah asingDalam desikan dedaun hijau<br />
bisikan sayu sang angin<br />
kayanya bumi selepas hujan;<br />
Aku jumpai tinggalan setia-ku<br />
<br />
Dalam lipur yang liar<br />
hatiku menggembara, keangkasa<br />
lalai menanam benih-benihan<br />
kemudian dewasa, menjadi hutan perasaan<br />
<br />
Kini aku kembali lagi<br />
melihat tinggalan dia yang lain<br />
hati ini terdetik,<br />
apakah aku dialukan?Leana F Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04588643321538382068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209448927518395463.post-26796348330685595982016-09-03T18:01:00.000+10:002016-09-03T18:01:20.823+10:00foreign heartIn the rustling of deep greens<br />
the soft sussuration of the winds<br />
the richness of earth after rain<br />
I find imprints of my devotion;<br />
<br />
In the wilderness,<br />
my heart roamed, soared<br />
wantonly left seeds in its wake<br />
grown entire forests of feelings<br />
<br />
Treading again this territory<br />
where stones have been turned<br />
Now I must wonder<br />
am I a tresspasser?<br />
Leana F Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04588643321538382068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209448927518395463.post-23417717331863002222016-09-02T20:08:00.001+10:002016-09-02T20:09:23.421+10:00Gentleness<span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Whilst making <i>duas </i>to put steel into my soul so that I may have the <i>strength</i> enough to be patient, <i>brave</i> enough to be good, today I am suddenly struck to ask that my heart be made gentle.</span><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I forget, that it is not hardness that should armour the heart.</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">I have failed myself too often of late. I rankle too much, I am aware. Sometimes the need to be understood is overwhelming and I, who talk to none about what bothers me and such, can become...</span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">[Note to self, remember to be gentle.]</span></div>Leana F Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04588643321538382068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209448927518395463.post-8165380646783557692016-08-30T00:12:00.001+10:002016-08-30T00:18:08.271+10:00Pejuang // WarriorKata-kata yang kusenyawakan<br />
bersama deruan biru angin<br />
<br />
kata-kata yang kusimpulkan<br />
bersama hijaun pucuk jiwaku<br />
<br />
kata-kata yang kau <i>terangi;</i><br />
lantas<br />
perang, kau cetuskan pada aku. <br />
<br />
<br />
.<br />
<br />
<br />
Words I imbue<br />
with the blue of the howling winds<br />
<br />
words I knot<br />
with the greens of my soul<br />
<br />
words you <i>light up;</i><br />
and<br />
into war, plundered me.<br />
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<br />Leana F Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04588643321538382068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209448927518395463.post-19714863000041843042016-08-22T10:17:00.001+10:002016-08-22T10:18:24.873+10:00captain the soulIf there is anything one could do when at wits's end, is to make <i>dua.</i><div><i><br></i></div><div>Make <i>dua </i>for help to come your way, and if none came, make <i>dua </i>for the strength to endure.</div><div><br></div><div>And if even then you fail to muster the strength to endure whatever it is that you are faced with, make <i>dua </i>for His forgiveness.</div><div><br></div><div>Don't abandon yourself.</div>Leana F Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04588643321538382068noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4209448927518395463.post-90712713739439921602016-08-21T16:05:00.001+10:002016-08-21T16:11:57.908+10:00sunny and downcastAt least it's always sunny here. No winters to endure, except the one within.<div><br></div><div>Sometimes I consciously feel the sun on my skin, like when I'm walking from the parking lot at work, or when I open my mail out in the front porch; the heat of the rays always a reminder of Life. Sometimes I feel bitter about how unhappy I have become, sometimes I just feel a longing to have the time to enjoy the days as I wished and either way it culminates into discontent.</div><div><br></div><div>I feel far removed from joy. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to fix myself to be honest. </div><div><br></div><div>Lord, help me. I'm much too inured to being morose.</div>Leana F Mhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04588643321538382068noreply@blogger.com0