I’m writing this at 10 to 5 in the morning. No, it’s not insomnia, but I don’t know either what it is. I am listening to a melancholic-but-happy-sounded song and I like it. I like the tears it makes me drop. It’s not sadness, because I like this sensation it gives me and it doesn’t feel like pain at all. It doesn’t hurt me, it comforts me instead. Maybe it’s me entering my own private world. I wanna have all the people I love so hard and hug them tight enough to feel their heartbeat compassed to mine, in harmony, like we always are. See, the teardrops are falling shyly but with a different weight than it normally is. It feels so good, embraced on my own feelings and the greatest acknowledgment I could have is that I’m so able to feel what I feel so passionately, I’m about to explode and yet being alive. I don’t know what feeling is that but it makes me love each detail of my own safe and personal madness.
~mona
Things We Like A Lot 