natural.

today at a seminar i pointed out the obvious that every literary text i've ever read features misery at some point. which may explain the prolific writing through time because humanity thrives on its inability to be inspired by joy.even if joy is presented, it is a result of transcending suffering or adversity. haha the proverbial human condition indeed.

i suppose it's so much easier to whine than it is to express joy because the latter stems from something so indefinable and surreal. it moves, tickles, and sometimes all you can do is grin and sigh. but words can never seem to capture that moment with justice. it's what they call the joy of the lord which is pure and elemental.see even as i try to put in words it's all coming out somewhat trite.

these days i float around in a suspended state of calm. not the sort which i will and chant, 'go to a happy place.' it just is. almost like i've been reborn into this child again, embracing every sensation and moment like a new discovery. my senses are no longer numb or indifferent, but it thirsts for that wonderful scent of you, the warmth of your long loving arms, that tired but loving voice at the end of the line, the taste of your raw sexuality and all of that framed so naturally into a form so perfect that i don't want  you to change a thing. coz you're all that, darling.