AdriTheDreamer
It is a blazing sun radiating all of its fire and glory on Earth. Those who are not sheltered are craving for a shade to keep them safe.
Square, triangle, rectangle.
We all can tell what kind of shape something is. We named them, we categorized them, and this knowledge is dispersed around the globe.
How do we know, however, if we all perceived shapes the same way?
It is like clouds. Marshmallow. Cotton.
It feels nice to touch. It feels nice to lean on.
It feels as if there is something lightly conforming you.
It is soft. And it is great.
The clouds are all of a burning colour. The sun has tuned down its attack, now a mild fireball. The backdrop sometimes blue, sometimes brown, sometimes violet.
It always feels good, looks good; except that darkness is the following.
"Technically," he said as he grabbed a few blueberries and munched on them, "blueberries are not berries. But bananas are."
"You have said it many times."
"But just like these blueberries that I keep buying," he held up one single unit of the tiny fruit and inspected in back and forth, "this knowledge has its own fun to think of."
We always like to talk about the big picture; the grandiose, the entirety, the whole.
But often times we forget the things around us. The details between the lines. The ideas that are already reachable.
Start small.
Knock on the neck, shake, and somehow the cork released itself.
It was a festive, or probably celebratory, event. The mood was high. Alcohol seemed the best way to push it the furthest. The air was elated and drunk until the sun rose again.
Jackson sobbed as he sat on the couch. He had lost his wallet. He did end up reporting his cards lost and getting new one issued, but the cash inside the wallet was probably lost forever.
"It is not the end of the world," his friend told him, "and bear with me, but I have to say that, don't cry over spilled milk. It has happened and you should either fix it, or move on."
Ships do not just shelter here. This is where they all somehow want to go. And people on-board or off-board, shuffling around. The faces do not repeat, but the action always do. This little harbour has seen it all.
"She was kind. And has the heart to give a helping hand to anyone in need. She could look at someone and provide them with an unsounded assurance.
"She deserves my words. She deserves our applause." The host concluded as claps of praise rose from the audience.
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writing since 2025 · 59 entries · 59 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Adrian showed up.
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the words Adrian reaches for
nowskywalkedeyessunhandstoodsometimestreesspotsprobablydarkairforwardmindwonder