Foz, Porto, Portugal
I sit with a cup of chamomile tea and my laptop and I feel I have nothing to say. LMJ is not here today, it's just me and we all know she's the funny one. This will be a nostalgic post. If you want haha and other silly things leave now and return tomorrow. You have been warned. Stay at your own risk.
I'm prone to nostalgia and soft thoughts of vague longing and gentle gestures. I miss the sea. I miss the sea everyday and I miss the sea a bit more when my head is so full it feels empty. I miss the sea a bit more today. My hands pause on the keyboard, the nostalgic music on makes me smile. I'm predictable. I'm also quiet. I miss the smell of the sea. I miss its sound. The sea soothes me. I used to sit on the beach for hours just emptying my head of thoughts I had and thoughts I should have never had. Just sit there. For no reason. For all the reasons in the world. And today I wished to have gone to the sea and just sit there until I felt nothing. And then I could start all over again tomorrow. Sitting here, so far away from the sea, I close my eyes and I'm still not there, and my throat has a little knot, but I close them anyway and I can almost feel it and it's cold and fresh and I can indeed start it all over again tomorrow.