You know how it seems as though all forces of nature have come together to create that perfect picture – that one second when all comes together just right… just to show you how graceful the world is.

And in every single frozen expression and in every breath of air… therein trembles the signature of a Creator that cries out – “I am here! I’ve created this moment just for you… cuz I Love you…cuz I Love you…”

I realise my fascination with words… stems from the urgency to capture every single powerful emotion that wracks the inner core of my being – in exactness… To store these emotions in a way that I can later come back and comprehend… I rarely record events… cuz they mean less to me, than what I feel rite at that moment… and to cut out all the crap… that’s wat it really is… life lived in a whirlwind of emotions, driven by our desires, encapsulated by our sensual memories… the smell, the sound, the rays of sunlight at a particular time in day, hitting the world just the right way, recollects to mind a particular emotion – in a particular time.

Déjà vu?

And its something about how pictures capture a thousand words, and how words can capture a million emotions. Just a glimpse of another life, the jarring sense of undeniable longing to recapture that scene one more time.

And anything can trigger it… the smell of cologne, the cigarette smoke that lingers in their clothes, a smile, the way the sun glances of the snow, or the reflection on an icy stream, a hot cup of coffee, the shouts of little children in a different language, laughter, thunderstorms, music…

Yea, risking soundin morose – rite now, I miss those nite walks from Shu to Starbucks, cold crisp air that clear your head in an instance and the misty, incessant raining and raining that eventually you get used to. The dampness causing your pants to stick your skin, that dry just before you have to walk in the rain again. How the breeze always smells of the sea just as you reach the steps in the car park. How cold the rain makes your cheeks… and how the wind to sting them as it whips pass you… and your umbrella turns inside out. Yeps them useless things. The aroma of coffee and chocolate mingled with the sounds of pure jazz – curling up in those cushy red plush chairs with my diary and mp3 player, all warm and snug … thinking… you know the pleasure you get being in the midst of everyone, yet being all alone. Peppermint mocha… che amore.

Rain, rain - cuddle... sigh

“Not much for conversation, I still find need to pray.
Sometimes I get tired of walking through these ordinary days.
If nothing else I get to see you even if we never speak.
The harm of words is sometimes we don't quite know what they really mean.

I don't know where, I don't know how.
I don't know why, but your love can make these things better.

Let me lay down in this field and stare up at the sky.
I hope the days and clouds turn into something as they pass us by.
And maybe you could settle for a skyline faded blue.
I hope that you might settle for this love I have for you.

I don't know where, I don't know how.
I don't know why, but your love can make these things better.

I don't know where, I don't know how.
I don't know why, but your love can make these things better. “ – Jars of Clay

(Pictures Acknowledgement: National Geographic)

(A deviation by =raun)