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Haruki Murakami's— "On Seeing the 100% Perfect Girl One Beautiful April Morning" #💕☔#🌿☁
...
One beautiful April morning, in search of a cup of coffee to start the day, the boy was walking from west to east, while the girl, intending to send a special-delivery letter, was walking from east to west, but along the same narrow street in the Harajuku neighborhood of Tokyo. They passed each other in the very center of the street. The faintest gleam of their lost memories glimmered for the briefest moment in their hearts. Each felt a rumbling in their chest. And they knew:
She is the 100% perfect girl for me.
He is the 100% perfect boy for me.
But the glow of their memories was far too weak, and their thoughts no longer had the clarity of fouteen years earlier. Without a word, they passed each other, disappearing into the crowd. Forever.
A sad story, don’t you think?
Yes, that’s it, that is what I should have said to her. .
.
Source: Gravitytrope | On Seeing the 100% Perfect Girl One Beautiful April Morning — Haruki Murakami
Some things don't make sense in life. Some things don't have to. I can look at this and tell you that the pages shone, words sang, bindings wept, and ink danced. I can tell you what it feels to be understood and supported. But I can't explain why. I don't have words. But that's what makes it feel so real. #sweeterpoetry
|| My dear friend @ahmyrmo gave me the best present she ever could have: she believes in me, and wants me to believe in myself. She had a book printed of my photos and poems...which is hopefully just a taste of the future. That's a dream of mine, you see. To write a book. And I'm not letting go of that one. #thetaleofthehummingbirdandthewalrus ||
"The truth is, your lifestyle is not defined by the things you live with, but by the way you live and the happiness it brings to yourself and others." 🌟 🌈 ⋅
“In the morning I bathe my intellect in the stupendous and cosmogonal philosophy of the Bhagavad gita, since whose composition years of the gods have elapsed, and in comparison with which our modern world and its literature seem puny and trivial; and I doubt if that philosophy is not to be referred to a previous state of existence, so remote is its sublimity from our conceptions.
I lay down the book and go to my well for water, and lo! there I meet the servant of the Bramin, priest of Brahma and Vishnu and Indra, who still sits in his temple on the Ganges reading the Vedas, or dwells at the root of a tree with his crust and water jug. I meet his servant come to draw water for his master, and our buckets as it were grate together in the same well. The pure Walden water is mingled with the sacred water of the Ganges.”
― Henry David Thoreau, Walden: Or, Life in the Woods
“Standing on the snow-covered plain, as if in a pasture amid the hills, I cut my way first through a foot of snow, and then a foot of ice, and open a window under my feet, where, kneeling to drink, I look down into the quiet parlour of the fishes, pervaded by a softened light as through a window of ground glass, with its bright sanded floor the same as in summer; there a perennial waveless serenity reigns as in the amber twilight sky, corresponding to the cool and even temperament of the inhabitants.
Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads.”
— Walden (1854) by Henry David Thoreau
(Chapter 16: The Pond in Winter)
“Learning became her.
She loved the smell of the book from the shelves, the type on the pages, the sense that the world was an infinite but knowable place.
Every fact she learned seemed to open another question, and for every question there was another book.”
— Robert Goolrick
“In the morning I bathe my intellect in the stupendous and cosmogonal philosophy of the Bhagavad gita, since whose composition years of the gods have elapsed, and in comparison with which our modern world and its literature seem puny and trivial; and I doubt if that philosophy is not to be referred to a previous state of existence, so remote is its sublimity from our conceptions.
I lay down the book and go to my well for water, and lo! there I meet the servant of the Bramin, priest of Brahma and Vishnu and Indra, who still sits in his temple on the Ganges reading the Vedas, or dwells at the root of a tree with his crust and water jug. I meet his servant come to draw water for his master, and our buckets as it were grate together in the same well. The pure Walden water is mingled with the sacred water of the Ganges.”
― Henry David Thoreau, Walden: Or, Life in the Woods
"The truth is, your lifestyle is not defined by the things you live with, but by the way you live and the happiness it brings to yourself and others." 🌟 🌈 ⋅
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Looking forward to your constructive comments and catch up more.
Instagram: www.instagram.com/rosemarieyang
Blog: www.theoraclejournal.blogspot.com
Inquiries/bookings: chaiandbelle@gmail.com
I didn't have filter nor tripod because Benro didn't show up, so I can't shoot with my camera. So they lend me one, a Canon 5D Mark 3.
MEANDERING BEAMS
Shot from Sheridan Towers in Mandaluyong City
#chasinglight #metroscapes #cityscape #buildings #urban #architecture #architexture #urbanlandscape #crepuscularrays #metromanila #skyline #rockwell #pasigriver #sunset #manila #discoverMNL #philippines #nikon #iamnikon #benro
16 September 2013: It's been so cold recently we're missing warmer days. Here's Rekvik on one of our fjord excursions in September!
Why We Travel by Jonah Lehrer – The San Francisco Panorama (McSweeney’s)
"What does this have to do with living abroad? According to the researchers, the experience of another culture endows us with a valuable open-minded-ness, making it easier to realize that a single thing can have multiple meanings.
Of course, this mental flexibility doesn’t come from mere distance. Instead, this increased creativity appears to be a side-effect of difference: we need to change cultures, to experience the disorienting diversity of human traditions.
The same details that make foreign travel so confusing–Do I tip the waiter? Where is this train taking me?–turn out to have a lasting impact, making us more creative because we’re less insular. We’re reminded of all that we don’t know, which is nearly everything; we’re surprised by the constant stream of surprises.
Even in this globalized age, slouching toward similarity, we can still marvel at all the earthly things that weren’t included in the Let’s Go guidebook, and that certainly don’t exist back home.
So let’s not pretend that travel is always fun, or that we endure the jet lag for pleasure. We don’t spend ten hours lost in the Louvre because we like it, and the view from the top of Machu Picchu probably doesn’t make up for the hassle of lost luggage.
(More often than not, I need a vacation after my vacation.)
We travel because we need to, because distance and difference are the secret tonic of creativity. When we get home, home is still the same. But something in our mind has been changed, and that changes everything."
"Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time." —John Lubbock, The Use Of Life
Vew large here: farm3.static.flickr.com/2454/4026655030_9cf867043a_o.jpg
Stranded in a place where nature is at rage...a feeling of helplessness and despair.
Taken in Anilao, Batangas