Category Archives: 2014

Some birds are meant to be caged.

~ Luck, American Authors


Death To Adverbs?

It’s large and bright, but still somehow warm and cosy.

There aren’t too many people, which is relieving, but there are far too many tables to choose from now, which isn’t.

The smile on the wide face of the cheery waitress is welcoming, and I’m hard-pressed to not return the gesture as I find a table by the window.

When she brings the coffee over, it’s entrance is hailed by a thick, bitter, and absolutely brilliant scent that makes my mouth water.

She’s careful with the tray, as if she’s afraid that she’ll spill something if she’s too fast, but when she brings it over, all is forgotten and I revel in the warmth of the beverage.

The cafe is quiet for the most part, and when I leave, it is with a light peace inside me that I’ve not quite felt before.

Serially Lost | The Light Goes Out

Some might say that sentiment is a defect of our thoughts; that we should not try to latch on to and keep hold of what has already come and gone. They might say that whatever it is, has already served its purpose.

For the most part, I would agree.

Everything is easier when we don’t think about what we’ve already done. It does not mean that we shouldn’t learn from our mistakes, it simply means that we should keep moving forward, and not try to stick ourselves back into the past.

So it is sentiment, then, that keeps me writing this post, because it has been a while now, a few years, since this particular event occurred, and I am simply, defectively, unable to release it.

Many people say that life is a journey, or in this case, allow me to use a description to help move us along.

Many say that life is like a train ride.

There are many stops on the way, and many new people enter the carriage that is your life. There are some relative constants; parents, siblings, relatives, but there is one constant that, to me, most travellers forget about.

It is your pet.

It doesn’t matter if you had a healthy, vivacious white cat or a sickly puppy while growing up. It is my belief, that having a pet teaches one to care for something, someone, other than oneself. I’ve heard of many who’ve said that their pets keep them company when they cry, hear the complaints that they have, and snuggle when they need someone to hug.

They show us love even when we don’t return the favour, and even if it isn’t love, it is a feeling quite similar to it.

I had a dog growing up. She was a sickly puppy, and the person who gave her to me tried to give me her healthier, more robust, brother, but I refused. I took the puppy who couldn’t walk right for days after her brother was scampering clumsily around the house, and I grew up alongside it.

When she … left, it was similar to the train slowing down, the lights in the carriage flickering uncertainly, and every other passenger suddenly becoming a complete stranger. It felt like the train was a second away from crashing head-first into a barrier, but then I realised later, that the train was merely making another stop.

And at this stop, my little light got off.

I knew … know … that if I got off the train, I won’t be allowed back on. And oh, how I tried to get that train moving again.

It’s been almost three years now, and every time I remember her white-and-brown fur, the train threatens to crash again.

Embrace The World In Grey

If I write this list to celebrate three songs that I’ve fallen in love with, then I will be hard-pressed to make a decision.

I will mention that this list is in no particular order, or perhaps, by writing them down, I will discover which means more to me than the others.

Thinking about my favourite songs now, I would be lost if I wasn’t to mention this one in particular. It’s an old choice, one that I’ve learned, mastered, and twisted on the piano since learning it almost five (or maybe even six) years ago. The title I remember is ‘Valse Lente’ by Vaughan Williams and though I never did, and quite possibly never will know what it means, I doubt that I’ll forget how to play what I consider as my all-time favourite piece.

The next song, I believe, would most certainly have to be one that is a more recent acquisition. ‘Shadow of the Day’ by Linkin Park. It isn’t a new song, and I will say that I don’t care much for the newer songs, but it is one that strikes something deep inside me every time I listen to it. Yes, the song might not be speaking of the most pleasant of things, but it is beautiful in it’s conception and melody, and one that I find … soothing, and one that has helped me through a lot.

The third song. Ah, there are quite a number that vie for a place on this list, and there are many that could replace this song, I think, on this list. But the fact is that I have listed this song here, and it is Ludovic Einaudi’s ‘I Giorni’. It is a soft, simple piano melody that brings my mind to peace and calms me down at the worst of time. It brings me to a different state of mind, and lifts me from the one I normally burrow myself into.

Automatic | The Soulful Machine


The most human machine I own?

Well, not really mine, seeing as its my dad’s twenty-two year old, second-hand car. (Yes, it’s older than I am)

It’s gorgeous, honestly, with paint that’s a shade darker than the sky on a sunny day, and a wonderful four-ring on the front and back (yes, it’s an Audi, yes, it’s old, and yes, it’s a right pain in the behind).

It’s got a few quirks, a real attitude problem, and when you compare it to any car that’s new, it’s ridiculously expensive to maintain. When you think about it, it just might be that continentals aren’t made for tropical weather, and therefore, well … that’s rather self-explanatory, yes?

A/N: I made this blog thinking I could hide myself … weird, I know … but I’ve ended up spilling so much more than I ever thought possible … including this little piece in bold. Well, anyway, please leave a comment or a like (If you want to, and if you did), they make my day (honest) and … well, thanks for reading! ~ dx0330

Next in Line


I’m please with this line;

Far too pleased, to be truthful,

But it keeps me light.



Not a word often used around me,

But always used with you.


You are a rock in

the midst of gravel; strong, firm,

No wind will make you stray.


I’m pleased with this line;

and I’m sure that I’ll always be

pleased to watch you climb.


I wish you only the best,

my most beloved brother,

as I take my leave at last.


You have taught me all

that I ever need know.