moonlight bay


we were on the beach for almost two hours that particular evening, waiting for the sun to set on the horizon of Moonlight Bay. we walked along the shoreline, getting our toes sandy, listening to the waves as they hit the beach. we sat and watched the sea as fishermen go by in their boats and some guys rushes back and forth in their jet skis. the water is deep and a little muddy around this scenic bay, perfect for fishing, not so much for swimming. it looked like it will rain any minute and as the clouds get heavier, the sun casts its last light - golden and almost magical.

like a box of chocolates


if you have to choose a movie as a favorite, which one would it be? i have watched one countless times and it still gives the same impact it gave me years back when i first watched it. it makes me laugh and cry and laugh again and it lingers on. there is something beautiful in simple things in life, i try to remind myself that every now and then. 'now' matters. life goes on, and on. it's up to me to find beauty in my days. no matter how trivial, how minuscule they may seem. here's some snaps from this morning (i went candy-shopping), and p.s i watched Forrest Gump for the umpteenth time.

Jenny: Were you scared in Vietnam?

Forrest: Yes. Well, I don't know..
Sometimes it would stop raining long enough for the stars to come out...
and then it was nice.
It was like just before the sun goes to bed, down on the bayou.
There was always a million sparkles on the water... like that mountain lake.
It was so clear, Jenny, it looked like there were two skies one on top of the other.
And then in the desert, when the sun comes up, I couldn't tell where heaven stopped and the earth began.
It's so beautiful.

Jenny: I wish I could've been there with you.
Forrest: You were.

― Forrest Gump (1994)

*bird cloud


*“walking on the land or digging in the fine soil i am intensely aware that time quivers slightly, changes occurring in imperceptible and minute ways, accumulating so subtly that they seem not to exist. yet the tiny shifts in everything--cell replication, the rain of dust motes, lengthening hair, wind-pushed rocks--press inexorably on and on.” 

i hung a dark red throw over the window frame last night, it felt like Christmas. i made sure my alarm clock is off, thinking, maybe i can sleep in if the bedroom is not flooded with sunshine when the morning comes. i woke up to this stellar view instead, 6.45am. that sunrise, and those clouds are the prettiest i've seen in weeks, maybe even months. i'm glad i took a peek out the window, when Ken whispered 'the sky is red'. 

remember this, if you will x

wake up


the sound of the washing machine, spinning. the sound of the kettle, water boiling. Ken moves around the room, turned his laptop on, awake and ready for his day. i woke up, real lazy. maybe it's one of those days to procrastinate, though i can't remember when was the last time i woke up late. it's getting really bright and sunny outside and the worst thing to wake up to, is sweat and the smell of my hair, unwashed for a day. i wish for rainy mornings. a song. happy monday.