This summer darling, make time for a siesta under jasmine trees while donning light white dresses.
Find the time to float amid water lilies while looking at the stars.
Make sure you meet Galileo to witness shooting stars together.
Stand under a shower of paper rain and be in awe of every firework show in sight.
Find the time to wear short shorts and to fall in love…
…and dance barefoot to Lana del Rey under frescoes.
Make this summer, one of immeasurable time.
Story credit: Image via Vogue China.
Have you ever felt like you belonged somewhere in this world?
I have never really felt like I belonged anywhere. This is why I have been talking to the demons in my head ever since I was a child, roaming the woods and laughing with them. Continue reading
More than any other story in the conversations section, this post will be understood more by those who have read the works of Gabriel García Márquez. Those who have not read Márquez’s works yet, then darlings, what are you waiting for?
I watched the quiet parade with Gabriel García Márquez yesterday. Continue reading
She told me she was scared before she skipped her way into the darkness.
Story credit: Image via Marie Claire Italia.
“My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
The more I have, for both are infinite.”
William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet
Story credit: Images via Jean Paul Gaultier’s On the Docks ad.
We have had quite the sunny weather over the past few days in the village so I have been donning layers of sheer over my head and face to protect my skin from the sun, while watching the villagers and their shadows walk by, donning the latest fashion…
Story credit: Image via Harper’s Bazaar.
“An old man with steel rimmed spectacles & very dusty clothes sat by the side of the road.” – Ernest Hemingway, The Old Man at the Bridge.
The first time I saw him I was sitting on the old tree, watching the villagers and life pass by. He looked like the village — a tinge of warm blue and grey.
One day, after a long storytelling session at the flower hoarder’s, the latter spoke of him, and his eyes, while looking at the blue velvet hydrangeas which stood on her fireplace mantel. Continue reading
We had sat on opposite wooden benches, resting on opposing marble walls. The cathedral was bare — the wobbly wooden chairs had been removed, exposing Latin prayers and the names of those buried underneath the marble floor. Continue reading