I gaze upon gen z clusters looking with disgust and worthlessness on ordinary and simple lives of the bygone generations, and I like a 90s trend, drive by the sunset boulevard, before disappearing into a blind turn, leaving behind echoing laughter.
I've genuine hate for this word, because it's so meaningless, steals the emotion, and mirth from small things in life, steals the beauty from simplicity; either nothing is ordinary, or everything is ordinary; "extra" is just a measure of pretentiousness.
How do you live a simple, sober and minimalistic life?
Perhaps, you mow the thought that what you've now isn't enough, and maybe it's not, but gratefulness, as my mother would say, is a spice that must be present in every meal you have.
And then you just live, without seeking happiness in the stereotypical corners, but you let it find you like a marshmallow hitting your tongue in a cup of hot chocolate.
expectations; disappointments; do you stop hoping then? Being heartbroken is a habit I guess.
But all you ever have is nostalgia, for the things that are gone, for a time that can't be replaced, or refunded, because you dreamt too much, and every time you did a nail was added to your bed; it wasn't your fault to dream vastly, it was to assume that one is of more value than the other, to assume that all the colours of the kaleidoscope were happy hues, and now all that's left is nostalgia, for a future, that died in your past, and a deathbed of broken dreams.
Dark also loves the light That's why moon is loved by night. I am jealous of the dark skies when they embrace moon right before my eyes. It's so far away and up above I guess I just have to contend with one sided love.