I’ve been itching to create a blog for myself on the internet for a while now, and I’m rather bored these days. So, I’m gonna drop a few lines here every now and then or just share what I like with you.
Where to Go When You Want to Be Alone?
A few years ago, I was inclined to find cozy places where I could relax and ponder life. It was then that I suddenly bumped into a spot in our apartment that since then has turned into a place I’d love to spend time in when I need some alone time.
It is located right at the top of our apartment, on the rooftop. We don’t have an elevator in our apartment so to get there you have to climb up a fairly long staircase. Different species of flowers in clay vases stand rather snobbishly on most stairs, and the beauty they naturally bring about makes the way up colorful and picturesque. Up you go and by the time you open the door that opens to the rooftop you are already perspiring. But the effort you put in is worthwhile. The place is seldom occupied.
Once you set foot on it, the view of the mountains and the hills surrounding your house is first to salute you. If you walk closer to the edge of the roof, you can see more vividly all the differently built houses around your apartment. Some are big, some small. Some are tall, some short. Some are new, some old. But no matter how they look from the outside, oddly enough, they always give you the expression that nothing is going on inside them.
I usually go there when the sun starts to set and choose a spot on the roof area where I can completely observe the sunset. While I’m watching the sun going down, I pay close attention to the sweet rhythm of the birds’ chirping song. I close my eyes and feel how the breeze that usually winds at that time of the day gently caresses my skin. I open my eyes again and it’s the faint tint of the color orange before my eyes that takes my breath away, both literally and figuratively. And I try to bask in each and every second of the time I’m there.
Sitting on the rooftop of our apartment, all by myself, I feel at peace with myself and also with everybody else. It’s as if the privacy and the relative quietness of the place release soothing signals that take out all negativity.
It’s so beautiful! How can you write so well?
Thanks a lot. I just let my mind wander.
Don’t you agree? It also holds good with people. More often than not, there’s more to them than they tend to show. It’s like what Edwin Arlington Robinson said in Richard Cory, I should think.
Yeah you’re right, it depends, sometimes it’s opposite
I love this girl. She’s pretty and an ukrainian whose accent is like that of an american. And by the bye, she lives in Ukraine. And if I’m not wrong she’s never been in an English speaking country. She’s learned the language pretty much the same as most of us do in here. Through living it.
Down below is the link to her YouTube channel in case you’re interested. (๑¯◡¯๑)
There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see of the world, the more am I dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the little dependence that can be placed on the appearance of either merit or sense.
Pride And Prejudice by Jane Austen
What a Terrible Thing to Do!
The images of what I had witnessed three days ago kept drifting into my head. Now that I was sitting on her deathbed, it suddenly dawned on me that I can never see her again. This queer thought brought a lump to my throat, and tears to my eyes. In vain, I tried to imagine what it was that vexed her to death. “How could she do that?” I thought to myself. “Why did she kill herself?”
It happened on a rainy day in spring. I was seventeen back then. I went to her house to return her book. Her mother opened the door for me and told me that her daughter was in her room. I went upstairs and knocked on her door and yelled, “Hey, Sarah. It’s me.” But there was no answer. Her room was absolutely silent. I thought it was strange, knowing what a noisy girl she was. I turned the doorknob and peered inside. I thought she was probably sleeping, but she wasn’t in bed. Then, I noticed she was standing by the window. “What are you doing?” I asked her, “Why didn’t you answer me?” But nothing escaped her lips, not even a breath of air. She looked taller than usual, and her neck bent at an angle like she was thinking. I turned on the light, and my heart sank when I spotted the rope around her neck.
I wanted to scream but nothing came out of my mouth. I wanted to run and tell her mother but my body had a mind of its own. It took me beside her lifeless body, and for a few minutes, I just looked unblinkingly at her. As if in a frenzy, I suddenly sought to open the rope around her neck, but my attempts were of no use. After a while, I just sat there dumbstruck. I don’t remember for how long I was in such a state of mind, but it was long enough to arise her mother’s suspicion. When she came to the room, I finally let out a loud bitter cry of sorrow.
After five years now, it still pains me to think of that gloomy day, and I try my best not to let the thought of it torment me all my life. But try as I might, there are times when I lose this battle of wills. Somehow its memory manages to shoulder its way into my head, time and time again, and I can’t resist the feelings it usually brings about enveloping me whole for a few minutes. But I long have mastered the skill of moving on her death.
Two months ago, I was to write a narrative essay. For that, I decided to use a mishmash of my imaginings and my memories. I ended up writing about the loss of a friend I never had. This is how my work turned out. (๑¯◡¯๑)
Today, I’ve been thinking about rejection and wondering what makes even the smallest kind of it so painful when I stumbled on this article. (๑¯◡¯๑)
It literally blew my mind when I read this sentence, “The same areas of our brain become activated when we experience rejection as when we experience physical pain. That’s why even small rejections hurt more than we think they should, because they elicit literal (albeit, emotional) pain.”
This man, I admire. Deliberately getting yourself rejected for one hundred days in a row? Wow! What he did was… awe-inspiring.
It is a terrible scene. I wonder if you ever thought about committing suicide?
It sounds like an austere ascetic
I think we all have thought of it at one time or another. But …I had my cousin in mind when I wrote that essay.
You can say that. But you know, I was thinking about how we let the fear of taking action toward reaching our goals paralyze us, and here’s a guy who tries to do away with it. To me, that’s admirable. By the bye, did you watch it?
Not yet, but I will
Just finished watching it, it was very interesting and actually I’m impressed and guess learned something from this guy, it might even change my life:))
You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of.
This is the link to one of my favorite articles that I wanted to share here:
Hourglasses that don’t stop
and opportunities that don’t come back.
I’m tired of losing