My Big Brother!

I love you big Brother!!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Time on a Window

Image
     The kitchen wakes warm, a little river of sunlight running through steam from the kettle. I stand on the blue rim of the window and taste sugar in the air, bright and granular. A round face on the far wall winks metal lashes—tick, tick—and every wink sends a small ripple through my wings.      “Who blinks over there?” I ask.      “I keep measure,” says the Clock, voice crisp, a ruler made of teeth.      “Measure of what?”      “Your path,” it answers, “through everything.”      Everything smells of toast, varnish, and lavender soap. The floor holds the weight of a table and four chairs; the ceiling holds a lamp that hums. Between them hangs air for flying and learning, so I lift and stitch a zigzag through the room. My wings beat: one-two-three-five-eight. Counting settles my small body into order.      “Faster,” whispers the Fan from the ceiling, starting its slow revolution. “...
Read more

Paper, Ink, and Being Seen

Image
  Morning spills through the blinds and warms my skin. From the kitchen, coffee rises with citrus and smoke, eggs whisper in the pan, butter edges the air. A riff of heavy metal rolls from the speaker—drums like weather, guitars bright as sparks. My breath steadies. I wait for words. 
Read more
Image
  What is Different? Sure, life isn’t the same when you’re older. It moves like water—always shifting, never quite the same from one moment to the next—and maybe that’s what makes it worth living: the movement, the growth, the chance to understand. Thinking you can return to a better time is a comforting lie, but the truth is, you can’t. The moment you’re in is the only one that’s real, the only one that can be shaped. And yeah, it’s not easy, especially when you look behind and whisper, “Hey… I want what I had.” But that time is gone. You’re not the same person you were, and you never will be again—and maybe that’s okay. That’s what I keep telling myself: not to look back, not to drag the pain of the past into the light of my future. When I leave this existence, I want my sins, my mistakes, and the hurt I’ve carried to stay behind while I move forward toward whatever comes next. Will it happen? Maybe. And maybe—just maybe—I’ll be forgiven, by my family, my friends… and, most of a...
Read more