Vista

Dear diary, 

December, the month of letting go of grief and accepting love. But not everyone can see or feel the same familiarity with this phrase. 

It is never easy to let go of the grief away and well, how can one accept love when grief still stares at you from a distance like an old friend? 

We end up greeting grief with a faint smile anyway. 

It is sunday . So i took a leisurely walk outside, far away from all the crowd. 

It is cold, not the bitter one, but the kind of cold december breeze that softly passed through my loose curls. Not wearing a sweater was an advantage for me. I felt every ounce of winter chills on my skin, eventually causing goosebumps. 

Sunset. 

Scattered clouds softly move carefree. No sign of flying birds but birds perching on the trees. 

Empty vista. 

The sidewalk paved with flowers.

 

The only seen being hovering around with a blood in its body was me! 

As the dusk was spreading its hands on the vista, i could barely see the color of the flowers or the leaves. 

And I could never keep my mind off the things i see.

 I see too much... 

Flowers, leaves, fallen twigs, insects, grass, clouds, birds. 

They are my metaphors and as long as i have them around me, i think i will be alright. 

Yours, 

m for melancholia. 

Pic~ A very dearest person to me. (And i love your eyes).