Pitter Patter Pitter Pat.

The soft sound of the falling rain twitches my ears as I lie peacefully on the dry cement, staring into the browness of the wooden house above me. Surrounded by pillars, and amongst boxes, shelves, stacks of scrapped magazines, books and paper, I lie. Completely still. It is remarkable how the pain of my guts completely dissapears under the only effect of the sound of rain. The feel of water gushing past me, through the garden and plummetting into the river. The clouds in the grey-white sky, appear in pieces up above the towering plants. 

It's all so linear, yet all muddled up. It's peaceful, but at the same time full of life.

And I am here in the middle of it all. 

Waiting for some dear creature to pull me out of my sea of nostalgia.

'You're such a freak.'

Yes I am.
And so are you.
Let's be freaks together.
Oh wait, we already are!

There's this one thing.

It's beautiful. That amazing feeling, when the whole world could be weighing on your shoulders, yet, the moment you hit the crystal clear water and enter the underworld, everything: It all goes away. It's a magical feeling.So incredibly big and amazing and complex, yet so simple and peaceful. Then, it's also the place where, magically, you and me become one thing, but more than any other time.
And it's just a marvelous thing.

-'What do I do now?'

Whether it will have a happy ending, or end up a tragedy, you can't know beforehand, but know that every risk is worth taking. You're not supposed to see the future, if you could, what would the point of taking the risk be in the first place? So quit wondering what if and just wait for life to guide you to that place you're supposed to end up at.

Joshua woke up with a start.

'It's so beautiful here' he said, looking around.

Hundreds of dandelions, lilas, roses.. inhabiting every bush, swarming the magnificent garden.

He sat down, deep in thought:'throughout my life I've experienced many things and seeing these plants just revealed something to me. 

We are a little flower in the garden. We start as a sprout, and we bloom. As time passes by we start becoming dry.

'When you go into a garden, which flowers do you pick? The colourful, beautiful ones, or the dried ugly ones?'

      Well, that's what life is all about, being picked and kept preciously by someone.

Whenever there's a moment, and I don't know what to say I'll look up and find my words in the clouds. 

The clouds

           They're mighty and powerful formations dwelling above our heads as kings. 

They are commanders of our mood, making the day shine with delight, or drowning us in greyness.