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My world has some elements, which are quite consistent from a long time like good old friends, my sweatshirt, my old torn jeans and some old books for whom I swear by.
I never craved for big ambitions in my life like living by the beach, owning a piece of land, fancy cars or a room full of fancy stuff.
What I desire is a slow but simple life
I love myself, all surrounded by hundreds of questions, my thoughts jumbled up while I scrunch up my blanket and feel the flex of my fingers as they slowly stretch out toward lights. I want to open my eyes and stay there for a bit, doing nothing.
I love my life slowly swiftly at its own pace, minus schedules and deadline, a whirled to-do list in its hand. Rather I choose a new course of life, where simply BREATHING is the law. The new cool code to abide by.
There are people who love basking in the glory of their own subtle emotions, having a 6-figure salary, puts them ahead of the crowd. But for me, it’s completely OK not to reach out for the moon, I love the feel of my old torn jeans breathing out memories!
Nature retreat can be called as my second home
I long for a life where the sea greets me at my doorway and the sand insists on sinking my toes into its balmy, warm body. I want a life where pleasure is in a jiffy nature. Not something to run after or sold in shops. Rather something, that is made, every single day, with my own two hands. I desire for a life where work is a synonym for being generous. A part of me reaching out to the planet to heal, to feel, to be in love with.
I never longed for diamonds but is that OK?
Is it acceptable if I have never craved for diamonds or an in-house theater? Is it okay if all that I want is to see the world, all of it? Is it okay if I want to smile at strangers and make them feel treasured, every option I get? Is it acceptable if I want to glue my fingers into a mushy pudding and run after the lights at the end of the tunnel?
Is it okay if I want to make friends of the most bizarre kind: the daydreamers, the inventors, the quiet bathroom singers, the dance-in-front-of-your-mirror dancers, and the immersed -with-feelings writers?
Because I am not asking for consent. I am bearing open my world and standing tall in my flaw. I am not asking for admiration.
I am claiming the space that is already mine, all mine.
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