I have never asked for grandiose gestures, nor expensive and luxurious gifts. The tiny things that give me simple, but pure joy need no audience, whether big or small. It only needs to be seen and felt by me, it only needs to be true. Is it?

To be reminded that I am remembered even in the most minute detail is worth more than a bag of diamond rings and delicate strings of pearls. I would honestly shout yes, if you ask for my hand, even with just a ring made of santan flowers.  I am not saying I want no gestures. I am not saying I am apathetic to romance. I only want simple things. I only want you. What about you?

And I want you to understand- that despite all that the eye can see, when people look at me, I am a simple girl with a simple dream. I’ve told you many a time, I want that one thing that I never had. Do you remember?

Let’s, you and I, build a house on a mountain, someplace none can follow. These are the words that my heart is singing. These are the stories my life is living. Do you know them?

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Another loved one gave my most hated advice on this earth. And I finally burst into tears. I am very close to losing it.

Dreams

I don’t know which inspirational thought from this weekend I am going to quote. I don’t know which realization I am going to reflect on.

But there’s this dream I hate to dwell on. So dwell in it, I shall. Because I like to subject myself to pointless mental tortures.

Dreams are our subconscious’ desire. Or so they say. I’d look up more definitions, but I figured it wouldn’t really matter. Because in the end, my stubbornness will win over whatever logical explanation I may find.

I have dreamt of nightmarish murders and thrillers. I have dreamt of completely random situations with everyday people. I have dreamt of a lot of things I can’t remember. But there’s this constant scenario I have been dreaming of for almost a decade now. And I’m wondering whether it’s running the same course of “you always want what you can’t have”. It’s a thirst of curiosity that was never quenched.

. . .

Well. That’s it. I guess this post is completely useless. Aside from the implications of me posting about it.

So, the stubbornness I was referring to is the conclusion: I may believe that some dreams ultimately turn into reality. That if you keep dreaming about it, it will somehow materialize itself into tomorrow. But it’s a silly thought that, so far, has not been proven. That no one has ever tried to prove, I think. So, yeah. This is pretty much pointless. Pointless, time-wasting mental tortures.

Last String

We don’t need to receive balloons to be happy. Don’t we feel equally happy, if not more, every time we give? Being needy is a primal instinct that is no longer this generation’s necessity. Why volunteer when millions of others have taken it upon themselves to overdo the act? So as we live here in this ever-evolving world, why not push ourselves to the limit and maximize our potential, to attempt the bettering of this world, that the selfish and indifferent fail to prioritize?

___

LAST STRING

I was born with a handful of strings in my hand.
And in the short time I have existed, I  let them slip one by one,
because I had precious raindrops to catch.
But I shall not think of it as giving them up.
Rather, I will think of it as letting go.
And now I am letting go, I am setting free,
the very last string that I will ever see.

by Adrienne Luzanne

Uninhibited

I write of beauty
Of things beyond reach.


But I can only
write of these desires,
I can only dream
with my eyes wide.


I should be free.
I should be flying.
Yet ’til now I am caged,
the lock still missing.

___

by Adrienne Luzanne

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