Cloudy Memories

"My dreams are the fairy tales I believe in."

- as if my thoughts form clouds. | S. R.

"Life would be so much easier if we didn’t care. But if we didn’t care then we wouldn’t love. And a life without love is an empty life. I would rather live a difficult life than an empty one. At least I’d feel something."

- nothing worth having comes easy. | S. R.

"I want to live a full life.
A life I could be proud of;
So I could look down from the clouds
and say, “Goddamn that was fun.”"

- I hope it’ll be an adventure | S. R.

"The skies are collapsing on me."

-  6 word story #6 | S. R.

“A flower blossoms for its own joy.” 
- Oscar Wilde

Photo taken by S. R.

"I don’t believe in forevers. I believe in infinities. Because forever is subjective to our own happiness. Infinities are defined by our love of others."

- your heart is in the shape of an infinity | S. R.

"How can you tell me to keep calm
when you’re making my existence feel like a war."

- don’t tell me what to do. | S. R.


When we see somebody passing by, what do you do? When a man accidentally bumps into you, do you give him a second glance? Or when a  little girl drops her purple crayon beside your table, do you even spare her a thought?

What we may never know is that these extras, in the stories we call our lives, have their own tales.

Each person we see, however insignificant they seem to be, have their own tale as vivid and as complex as our own. They have their own ambitions, dreams, friends, rivals, worries, and maybe some inherited oddities. Their lives are epics in themselves that weave through us so quickly and so discreetly, as if using an invisible thread.  

Behind what we believe to be empty eyes, lie an innocent wonder and awe for the sun. Every single move that they make has a specific purpose behind it, just like you. Beneath every shove that you get from a random stranger may lie a deep anger with they are forced to let out on random strangers just so they won’t hurt their loved ones. But sad realisation comes that you may never even be able to read their stories, however beautiful they might be. We are only shown the quickest of glimpses. 

As they keep moving and passing by,

so must you.

"I am a writer,
I live and breathe ink.
I am a writer,
I’ll die on my own words"

- my life is not lived on your terms. | S. R.

“Never mind, said Hachiko each day. Here I wait, for my friend who’s late. I will stay, just to walk beside you for one more day.” 
- Jess C. Scott
RIP Hachiko 
November 10, 1923 - March 8, 1935

Photo by S. R.