The heat is on again. And when it hit, I feel it right down the very marrows of my bones. It is the roughest period of year, at least to me. The pollution, then the air we breath reeling with loose particles of dust and viruses that make u cough before you are aware you are coughing. And when I wanna I complain, I remember the rainy period with the torrential rains that gets you tucked to your room. Hmmm...
Every season has its thrills and its curses. Every season has its vermin and gives an antidote to another season... just like the seasons of the soul.
The heat that beats on my naked flesh... the sweat poring, the sleepless hours. I gather them jealously remembering that age when I walked the barren cracks of the woodlands east of my little hamlet. Sunshine was a promise. Night was made to dream.
welcome to the WORLD OF HAVEN VALLEY
I am not a cut different from the ordinary human who walks the street. But in my journey, I strive to understand the music that surges from the wide worlds within every individual, that which makes him/her that fragile and sacred at the same time. I have found myself sometimes looking at someone farting with thumps-up as though goading him on to sanity. Seemingly meaningless things have been things that have communicated sense to me especially during louring hours. That is what this journal is. I offer these thoughts to the world with wonted pleasure and gratitude to all that awakens the human in me.