• woman holding white flower

    The Fervor Of True Love

    The fervor of true love is not to be mistaken for the mere fluttering of the heart, as it goes far beyond the physical realm. True love becomes the palpable feelings of the heart which binds souls together, as closely woven as the petals in a peony’s embrace. It is the whispers of a thousand winds telling tales of unity; it is the laughter of the stars above, cascading in melodies only the heart understands. Thomas Slatin

  • One last look at 2012. Happy New Year planet Earth!

    Of Stardust And Love

    Once upon a shimmering stardust sky, the resplendent planets of our Solar System danced in cosmic grace. Oh, how they gleamed with boundless affection for one another, these celestial sisters, swathed in veils of stardust, orbiting the golden sun in harmonious synchrony. In the midst of this radiant congregation, sweet Mercury, the littlest whisper of a world, fluttered and twirled. With her nimble feet and swift demeanor, she twirled close to her kin, whispering tales of the Sun’s warm embrace. Beside her, Venus, a goddess in her own rite, adorned in golden veils, serenaded the heavens with her timeless beauty. She wore her clouds like precious jewels, and her heart…

  • Cornerstone Content,  Diary

    A Letter To My Younger Self

    I was recently asked to speak in front of a high school class, and this inspired me to write a letter to my younger self in my diary. I have achieved numerous feats, but there is one particular moment that stands out as the pinnacle of my achievements: being granted the esteemed opportunity to address a high school audience. My dear younger self, it’s with a heavy heart that I must share the harsh realities of life’s journey with you. You are bound to experience heartaches, deeper than what you could ever anticipate. Betrayals will come from the very people you’ve loved deeply, the ones you would have moved mountains…

  • Diary

    Live Fearlessly, Love Unapologetically

    Life, I’ve come to understand, is for living. I must pursue those sparks that set my soul alight. I must engage in activities that elicit joy within me. I have to choose to be around those who ground me, those who respect me, who embrace me in a manner that reassures me of my worth, my acceptance, my love. Healing myself is a task I have to take on, even when it stings, particularly when it stings, so as not to approach my existence within the confines of my internal burdens. I must venture out into the world, undeterred by the perceptions of others. I cannot rob myself of experiences,…

  • Diary

    Echoes Of A Lost Love

    As I stood by the window, my heart swelled with a deep longing. I wanted to see you walking backwards, as if time itself could be rewound and that familiar sensation of you coming home could be recreated. I ached for those days when your arrival filled our shared space with laughter and love. A time when our hearts danced in perfect harmony, and my world seemed to make sense. I imagined the scene: You, gracefully stepping down the pathway, your strides in reverse, as if the universe understood my yearning and was pulling you back into my life. The wind would tease your hair, playfully lifting the strands and…

  • Diary

    Of Lovers Lost

    I often find myself reluctant to take irreversible actions, apprehensive about leaving your side without beholding your captivating visage. I unknowingly still possessed an old photograph of us together when we were 16. The sight of your eyes brings me immense sorrow, as they serve as a reminder of the path I neglected to follow and the journey I failed to embark upon. Nevertheless, deep within my thoughts, I envision a moment and place where fate guided us along a different trajectory. In this alternate existence, our love story unfolded effortlessly, unimpeded by obstacles or barriers. Maybe it was only within a dream or a distant past life that we…

  • Diary

    Summer Camp And The Breakup Playlist

    Today I thought about the time when my relationship with Angie was nearing the end, and I returned to my old summer camp in search of solace. I spent a week at my old summer camp, wandering around remembering the ghosts of what once was, and yet it now feels like a lifetime ago in some forgotten dream. Nostalgia is the overwhelming desire to return to the way things used to be, yet refusing to acknowledge the fact that things will never be the same as they were, and our memories are often jaded. Life is beautiful it seems, when I am lost in my own reverie, yet I often…

  • Micro Blogs

    Send Me An Angel To Love

    I’ve always been a mysterious person, always full of secrets, dark, painfully introspective and overwhelmingly observant. I’m the kind of person who will tell you the truth, but only if you ask me point-blank what’s bothering me or what I’m thinking about; otherwise, I’ll just keep it to myself and let you continue your assumptions about me. I’m the type of person who refuses to talk about myself in social situations, who never really lets anyone in to see what’s beneath the surface and who keeps it all hidden away. When I was younger, I would often look to the sky, wishing for the universe to send me an angel…

  • Diary

    I’ve Lived My Life As A Prelude To A Mystery

    September 21, 2022 I’ve lived my life as a prelude to a mystery, and the only clues I have are the feelings that are evoked in my heart by what I know about it so far. I’ve wondered whether or not things in my life were ever what they appeared to be, and even today, I still have my own doubts. Maybe it was never supposed to happen, but it’s here now, and here I will stand, forevermore because of what I’ve created out of sheer will, determination, and love. I woke like a creature of the waiting sun; another sleepless night. I climbed out of bed and stumbled into…

  • Writing

    The Lost Girl Was Meant To Be Found

    The lost girl was meant to be found, for she herself holds precious and wondrous things the world has yet to see. She was born with raindrops in her eyes, but like broken china, she cries until all that’s left are fissures of light. Happy! The word slipped out the moment I awoke, before I could help myself. I wake up each morning, hearing the birds sing and the echoes of sighing angels, and perhaps it’s not where I belong, the beauty of my new surroundings have me watching, listening, and learning. With time, the past feels like nothing more than a lost memory, as I learn to adapt to…