Dance Dance

I was reading my sister's book during the rainstorm... mainly because there was no internet, or electricity. I was bored.

At first I deeply criticized the book, naming all the unrealistic things I thought that probably isn't true, and found it boring.

Well, last night I got OFF my laptop, and finished the book.

Looks like the tables have turned.

I actually found the book really funny! And interesting! It is about this girl who is writing in her diary about her friends, school, mean girl, and her secret crush.

I know, sounds extremely girly right?

Well, she's in the 8th grade and a bunch of drama and events happen. The book is cool because its like she's actually writing in the diary with drawings. She's a new girl in school. She's in the 8th grade and is really funny. Blah blah blah happens. Mean girl. Secret crush. 2 friends. Embarassing moments.

She enters this art competition and then her painting breaks since a car ran over it, and she goes home crying. (This is the climax) So in the end, she find out that the mean girl didn't win. and she won! because her 2 best friends and her secret crush (who is a photographer) set up this project thingy and entered it to the art competition and all goes well.

Basically I found the author really clever. The plot worked out really well, just when you think that all things are dead and sad, it somehow comes back to life ;)

Haha, sorry, bad explanation.

But really, I like how everything worked out.

Now, I am on the SECOND book of that series... yes, I know ... haha.

My sister has the second one, and I shall read it.

Anyways, I just started it and its very interesting so far and got me thinking...

Her crush is basically a cute, shy, friendly, funny guy.... pretty much my type. Just sayin :P

and I'm reading about how there's an upcoming halloween dance. And how she's waiting for him to ask her.

It's really funny. I think, just when he was about to ask her, the mean girl swoops in and takes him to take a photograph of her art stuff... (btw, this is a continuation of the first book).

But yea, that's where I have stopped so far.

and it got me thinking....

Well, I've never had this experience... :/

I've never been to a dance, even a school dance, and I've never had the nervousness and waiting for a guy to ask me to go with him. I've never had that.

It's not like I'm unthankful for what I have had.

It's just. I kinda want to experience this :)

But I know it's not going to happen (I wish it would!)

because my school NEVER not in a million years, would ever have a dance. -.-"

Why, you ask? Well, because IDK!

They probably don't want boys and girls to populate right away in their school.. just kidding!

No, but seriously. It's a little bit stupid.

I just wish they would change that!

Hey! I know!! I'll be Mahatma Gandhi and "BE the change I wish to see in the world!"

Oh yeah, me wearing a nice dress, holding a lone balloon and a poster saying, "DANCE OVA HERE, SOMEBODY ASK ME!"

Yeah, that plan would probably fail and I would probably get expelled from disturbing the way of life or something...

But I shall pray to God, "Please, please, please!!! I pray that our school would change its mind and have a dance!!" AMEN!!! Can I get one from you too folks? Yes? No? Okay... :/

But I really think a dance would be cool. I feel like I'm contributing to society with this idea.

The guys would experience asking out a girl. And the girls would experience guys asking them.

Okay, I'm not the best looking apple in the tree--- hahah! (sorry just had to use that metaphor)

I'm not the most popular either.... But who cares?! Even though I don't get asked out to 'said dance-that-im-hoping-will-exist-even-though-wont-maybe-idk' its completely fine with me :)

I'd go to the dance with my friends!!! We'll all go together in really cute dresses and party by the food table! JK! I'd probably start a conga line :) It would be amazingly fun!

And it doesn't even have to be a dance dance.. It could be a celebration! It could be a halloween dance! Since halloween is coming up and we could wear lame or scary or awesome costumes and dance! That would be so much fun!

So yeah. I just realized that I am completely typing out my thoughts on here... Oh well!

This is my blog....

I think some people who I told this about is reading this,... haah oh well :)

If you are... I'm single ;)

JK! haha.. no but seriously.

:)

so.

And so :)

I'm feeling quite happy today. It wasn't really eventful but it was good.

I sang nicely today I must say. Usually, I sound okay, but I thought today I did really good.

Also, I wrote a song 2 days ago, I think, along with the music and the lyrics are 100% true.

It's actually quite funny of what it is about. Funny how I wrote it.

I was thinking of a situation that happened currently and sang it out loud.

The tune turned out great and so did the lyrics. I got complimented on it :) Yay.

I have nothing else to say at the moment since the feeling kind of went away. So goodbye.

Thank you.

I do not live to please.

So I am going to post whatever I want on here. Of course, this is my blog :)

So I shall express myself. I do not know if there are actually readers out there, but I shall pretend that there are and they choose to remain silent to contribute to the mysterious and quiet effect that is Strawberry Avalanche-- My blog that is.

Expressing my thanks to you all.

My absolute favourite kind of music is. Not pop. Although it used to be when I was a child.

Not hip-hop, or rap, or country.

I like music. The mellow kind of music where the voice is the favourite instrument in the track :)

Kina Grannis.

She is currently my favourite youtube person :)

The way she sings is basically my favourite kind of singing. The kind of singing that I love to sing secretly.

I smile to myself.

I really like those ones. Also thoughts that make you think.

I realize this blog is really fun.

Why write inside a diary for only yourself to read, when you can write in a blog where the whole world can gain access to your thoughts?

Exactly.

That's the very cool thing about people.

It's silly :P

Humble.

Respect.

I seem to gain respect for people who has a sense of respect for themselves and for other people. Those who stay humble and gentle and kind, even though they receive attention.

I admit, that sometimes I can get a little bit prideful at times when I get attention...

But naw, I'm getting better :)

But those celebrities, I know they are just people as well. I shall use examples.

One who I respect greatly is of course, first and foremost, Jesus.

He stayed very humble and respectful. Treated others well even though they did not treat him well at all, even far from it.

He washed his disciples feet, showing them that status isn't as important as they thought it is, but instead to stay humble and serve others.

He is just a cool guy. I mean, He taught people and healed the sick.

Not only that, but the other thing that makes him extremely cool is he hung out with the least popular people at the time. And we all know how hard that is to do.

People try to be accepted, its hard when you're the misfit in the world and much easier if you're surrounded by people who like you and has class, instead of misfits, outcasts.

But Jesus, well he's super cool.

He did many amazing things and refused to act like a "King", like he was above everybody else and he did not show any pride. He humbled himself before God.

So cool.

Obviously no one can beat his awesomeness and coolness. LOL.

But someone else who I found out that I respect is,

Kina Grannis.

For those who don't know, she's a youtube celebrity :)

Very original, which I respect.

As well as cool, calm, and collected.

She's not a wannabe like some youtube people.. haha.

Okay, maybe I find myself sometimes a wannabe, but maybe I'm not.. eh, I don't know :)

But she's very cool and I enjoy her music, check her out sometime!

And Miley Cyrus.

Is an example of... well. Not.

I greatly adored her when she first started out Hannah Montana. She is a Christian and set a great example and was a great role model for all girls everywhere.

But fame got to her, she is growing up and has forgotten what it is like to be a person.

Now, I am not judging her. Or criticizing her.

It may seem like it, but well I'm just expressing my thoughts.

I admit, she is awesome. She just needs to be reminded of the world.

I know what is is like. I sometimes feel like I'm her.

I get so caught up in everything, getting what I want, etc.

And forget that it's not all about me. There are other people also trying to make it, and have it worse than I do.

So I'm quite selfish at times and very ungrateful.

I would dislike to be that person.

I am trying not to be :)

I'm honestly very thankful for everything that I have.

Let me stay a good girl.

And on that note,

Sayonara and Goodnight.

-Jane

Mmm

It is raining quite hard right now.

The wind is blowing the rain on the window, making it look like large splatters.

Like someone decided to have a spitting contest, and both were really competitive.

The trees look like they're dancing forcefully. No surprise, its a rainstorm.

The sky is gray, not hint of blue whatsoever.

The electricity wires are also being blown. Sorry if I get electrocuted at some point because I am using an electronic device at the moment.

I don't feel like talking to anyone at the moment.

I just want to be alone and do my own thing.

I wish I had my guitar wish me here. Life is hard.

I still need to work on my English project. To be honest, I'd rather do a quiz. It's less time consuming and would make me worry less since all I have to do is memorize.

I prefer tests and quizzes over projects. It's just more work.

Guitar. I need my guitar.

Thoughts

Ugh. I'm in frustration and annoyance.

It is hard keeping up with school. I mean, I know that I can do it, but it does help with some support.

I constantly keep asking for help. You know, 'ask and you will receive'...

I may sound like I am complaining, but this has just gone for a really long time.

Or maybe it's just me.

I know that other people have a life, and have plenty of other things to do, but you'd think that they'd remember me.

Maybe it is just me.

Even though I am quite occupied with things, I still help people.

But now when the tables have turned I don't think I'm getting much help.

"Don't worry kid, you've got this" -Jane.

I assure myself.

Yup, I think I got this.

I'm going to go play my violin now.

New Classic.

I just love the classics. So much.

I don't know why. Is it perhaps the differences between the cultures and times?

The different actions the people portray from a time a century ago? Maybe. Maybe not. But I truly enjoy it.

Jane Eyre. Pride and Prejudice.

Take me back. Please.

I would want to go back in time maybe during the 1800s. During the days of Mozart. Beethoven.

Where music was created. The classics.

Take me away. Take me back to the times where women wore big poofy fancy dresses. Dresses that went all the way down to the bottom. Where women weren't allowed to show their ankles.

Shoes that were so fancy that they hurt. Hairstyles that were perfectly curled, carefully fixed into place. Jewelry, earrings, necklaces. They were a big deal.

Even the simple maid's clothes. Aprons. The kitchens.

The grand piano in the middle of the room, by the fireplace. Lounge chairs.

Mystery. The mystery I like.
Where men and women were mysterious with each other. Where love was a mystery, something you needed to figure out on your own.

When people used their minds, as well as their souls.

Magical is it? No, it's not magical. It's a time where it was real.

The green fields, with long grass and flowers, daises, blue skies, the sun shining brightly down on your face. My white dress flowing in the wind. Then he would look at me with a smile so kind and lay out the blanket on the ground. Where we would sit on. I start to put down the brown basket and slowly empty it, putting the contents on the blanket. He stops me as I start, brushes his hand gently on my hand and continues to lay out the our special meal. I let out a shy grin.

Then he shares with me the hot meal that was prepared by old, experienced hands, by his lovely head maid. We eat silently. Just enjoying the day.
He then takes out the apple pie, still unbelievably hot, and we both share it.

The wind continues to blow and my black raven hair comes upon the sun.

I look up at you to see you smiling at me, your face shining, teeth grinning.

I close my eyes then open it to the blinding sun.

Classic.

Take me away.

Conflict.

I am in conflict with myself.

I think things one way, then go another way. Like ice cream, if you may.

I say that I like vanilla, it's my favourite flavour, because it is so simple, light, and has a nice taste. Then I say that I hate vanilla because it's so plain and boring.

But my favourite flavour is Pistachio of course. My close friends know that :)

But conflict.

I stare at the thing that's constantly on my mind, yet not at the same time. I should make a choice, but I can't.
Because not everything goes your way, it takes its own path, and own way. You can't follow it and expect it to listen to you, or follow your guidlines, your rules for life.

You think that you're the director, or script writer, you write the entire movie in your mind,

scenes, the actions, the words, etc. Even the transitions are all fixed in your mind.

Then you suddenly get disappointed. When the camera angles that you had written down don't work out, or you see that it's not your vision.

The actors that you wanted, are not the actors you have. Somehow, the world just hired someone else for the job.

Your script, the lines that you wrote in your mind. Nobody decides to follow them.

You're helpless.

But the thing is. You're not the director.

I'm not the director.

I have come to realize in my own thoughts and words that it's not even my movie.

I only play a small part in it.

But I still should fulfill my part with excellence and absolute best. Contribute to the movie. Play my part. Because in every movie, everybody has a part to play. They should play it.

What would people do without the lighting people? The makeup people? The costume people?

Yeah, I know that most people, skip the credits, or don't even pay attention to them. But each person, down to the donut guy (maybe.. if they delivered donuts good), are in the credits.

You're still there. You played your part, you helped make the movie happen, you're there.

Not forgotten.

People don't pay attention to the credits, sure... But do you really care what they think?

Isn't it your life? And not theirs.

Do your absolute best in life. Trust, have faith.

You might have trust or faith issues because of things that have happened in the past, or the situations that you were in. I understand that.

But trust me, I've been there... I know what it's like.

I say to myself repeatedly, "I can't trust anymore, or I can't this.. I can't that.."

But I do anyways.

Because I know that, it's right.

I can't help it.

But anyways, conflict.

Have you ever wanted to do something so badly, but you didn't?

I have, and sometimes I deeply regret it.

I keep reminding myself, you only live once, so make it count. Just do it.

Even if the whole entire world will judge you.

Because in the end, you might regret it. I did.

"Never let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game."

I didn't know it at first, but I let fear keep me from things I should've experienced, or gotten.

Now, I regret my actions....

You get that thought at the back of your mind thinking,

"What if...?"

What if I had said something?

What if I did that?
What if? What if? What if?

Do you ever think that you wish you had said something, but didn't? Or have you said something, but wish you didn't?

I'm sure we all have thought that.

It's so scary though.

I'm afraid.

What if I did say something? What if I didn't?

Would things still be alright?

I suddenly feel like a vulnerable child in the corner. I just want everything to be alright.

Fear. Yeah, it sucks.

Faith & Trust.

You need those two things.

Stop with the madness.. Stop with the Fear and Doubt. Stop it.

It's annoying.

But you're thinking... Yeah, but what if I trust? What if I had faith? I get hurt anyways! I get hurt so bad that I feel like I have 1000 knives getting shoved in different parts of my body. Down my throat, up my side... Then comes the splashing of blood. I feel like I'm about to explode.

It sucks so much when that happens. But you can't help it. No one can.

Or maybe... I don't know.

It hurts so much that you don't want to trust or put faith in anything or anyone anymore. Because you're done with all the pain.

Well you know what? Suck it up.

You have to toughen it out.

Well, Jane, harsh much? You silly girl, you don't know what you're talking about! You don't know about pain. You're so young. How could you possibly know?

Well readers, just 2hrs ago, I spent 1hr crying the bathroom.

I have dealt with many things you don't know about. And honestly, while I was crying, I didn't want to toughen up or suck it up. I felt weak. I just wanted to cry and give up right then and there.

I didn't want to trust, or have faith or anything. I felt that I should guard myself. Not let anything happen anymore and stay in that little corner.

But is that living life?

I got out of the bathroom and stopped crying.

Music has a powerful impact on me. I started playing my violin and tears came streaming down my face as past memories came to mind. Flashbacks of situations that brought me plenty of misfortune and hurt.

It wasn't a walk in the park.

It was more like a rainy day... with thunder and lightning flashing in all directions. Everything hitting you at once. Like a part of you, or most of you have died inside.

I don't want to try anymore. I give up, you think.

No. Don't say that. As tough as it might be, there's always hope.

My friends.

After that hour of crying, I sat with my grandma and watched some tv with her a little. It felt comforting.

I walked up the stairs and my best friend was online :) I spoke with her and a smile lit up my face. All my worries were suddenly far from my mind. It gave me a sense of happiness and I forgot everything that I cried about and thought about.

I guess that's the lesson here.

I trust her. I had faith in her.

Maybe that's the answer. Maybe it's not.

But if I had lived in fear and doubt... if I was afraid of meeting people, making friends, because of a hurt from a past life... I wouldn't have a best friend. I wouldn't have that person that can make me smile without effort. I wouldn't be happy.

If I keep on doubting people. If I don't believe in them.

I shall eventually lose it all. Lose hope. Lose love. Lose life.
I shall break down and lose that sense of living and just want to die.

But no.

I trust. I believe. Faith. I love.

That's why everything's okay.

That's why I'm fine.

I'm okay.

The conflict is gone, and I assure myself everything is okay.

Now it may come back, but all I have to do is have faith and trust.

Thank you readers.

You rock my socks. xD

Goodnight.

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.” - C.S. Lewis

I came across this quote recently and was surprised of how much it had read my thoughts.

To love at all is to be vulnerable...

I'm not going to lie here. I have had my heart broken so many times its hard to keep track. It's either that there is quite a number of heart-break. Or its the amount of pain that was inflicted upon my heart. Could be both. But I don't know anymore.

Nobody knows this about me. And I'd rather not tell anyone. Personally, that is. They can read about it here. But I'd prefer if they keep the information to themselves, as I am opening myself up.

Which is part of the reason why very few people know about this blog. Sure, they can share it to the world... but they can't tell them it's me.

Anyways, the heart.

I feel so vulnerable. I think that I care too much about people. More than I do about me.

Everybody sees me as "perfect" if you call it. But in reality, I am the one who is hurting the most on the inside. Keeping it all bottled up. Then at one point, I reach the breaking point. Where it all explodes. Where I break. Down.

I grew up in a place where I took care of myself. Where no one took care of me. That's how I see it in my eyes.

I couldn't tell others about how I really felt about things, about what has been happening to me. Because I didn't feel that I should ruin their day. Because I felt that I shouldn't tell them about my worries and that it shouldn't be their problem.

So the only one who would know about anything. Is me.

It's nice that I've started this blog. So I can actually post everything on here and no one would know.

Which brings back to the me part.

I felt compassion for people, after all the pain and suffering. In my mind, I thought that it should be my responsibility to take care of people. I guess that's why I care so much.

People come to me for advice, them thinking that I'm the perfect person for the job. I give it to them, because I've been through it.

I feel the need to take care of people. To help them.
No one took care of me. No one helped me.

I'm only a little tiny speck here.

What is wrong?

The 88 keys

Music.

It's like a soothing unseen thing that calms and passes through the soul.

Not only the soul, but also the heart.

A passage way, as you can call it, that defines how you are feeling. Making emotions swirl through your heart and thoughts pop up in your mind. Thoughts that you don't think about, that are usually found at the back of your mind. Emotions as well, that swell from the bottom of your heart that make their way to the top.

I was playing my piano today. My fingers brushed across the black and white keys of the lovely instrument. I pressed on the keys, making music. Not memorized music, oh no, music that came from the heart. That's the best kind of music. Sometimes it's the worst.

There are 88 keys on a piano. 88 beautiful keys, each one is different. Different kinds of keys, names, tone, pitch, etc. There are two colours on a piano. Black and white.

52 are coloured white, the naturals. 36 are black, the accidentals or sharps or flats.

The word accidentals made me think of a situation that I came across, well, "accidentally."

Who can really stop what goes on naturally in the world? It's ironic isn't it? How I use the word accident associated with the word, natural.

You're probably wondering where I am going with this? Don't worry I'll get there.

Playing the piano keys, made me think of a specific song. A song that spoke to the heart of my dear friend. A song tells a story you know. Her story is quite interesting. I asked her permission and she has allowed me to share it with you readers out there.

It is funny, but I have met her by accident. She was riding her bicycle in the park, and I was sitting on a brown bench just admiring the view of nature that God has created for our enjoyment. How odd that she was wearing a long light coloured dress while riding a bicycle!

Her dress had got caught on one of the gears, which had partly torn her dress and not only that, but as well as caused quite a malfunction on her bicycle!

Long story short, she was unable to move on and ended up on that brown bench, sitting beside me.

We had a very good chat and she started telling me her story. Opened up to me she did. What else is better than sharing a good story with a stranger that you just met?

Here is is readers, the story of Annmarie.

She had met a boy when she was young. Younger than she is now. It is quite a story actually. It wasn't one of those boy meets girl stories that they automatically fall in love and spend the rest of their lives together, no.

They hated each other. Well I wouldn't say hate. More like despised, or deeply disliked. Hate is a strong word isn't it?

But when they first met, Annmarie was practicing for her ballet performance in a studio. The boy had walked inside and watched. It was normal for people to come inside the studio and watch the practices.

But while Annmarie was dancing, the best that she possibly could, the boy made a snicker. He was laughing! Actually laughing.

Usually, she wouldn't get distracted by audiences bickering to themselves, but this boy was jeering with laughter! This caused Annmarie to stop.

She approached him and asked coolly, "Do you have a problem with something?"

He replied with tears forming in his eyes, "Your dancing.." He said still chuckling.

"And what about my dancing?" she replied.

"It looks so rehearsed and well... silly!" He immediately broke into laughter once again.

He was the only one in the studio at that time, other than Annmarie.

Her eyebrows flew up, making a surprised look. "My dancing is supposed to be rehearsed. I practiced for over 48 hours this week, trying to perfect the art and gracefulness of ballet. And no, it is not silly. I don't expect a mere mind like yourself to understand. Hmph!"

And at that she began to dance again, leaving the boy smiling at her, but silently laughing still.

At the end of the day, he approached her again and tapped her on the shoulder while she was walking down the sidewalk on her way home.

She turned around and saw the boy smile at her.

"Yes, what do you want?" she said casually, then started walking forward again down that gray sidewalk.

"I'm sorry but your dancing is dreadful! You look like a complete stick!" He laughed again, insulting her freely.

She ignored him and kept on walking like he didn't bother her at all.

He followed alongside her and spoke again, "My name is--"

She puts her hand infront of his mouth, stopping him from speaking,

"First you jeer laughter in my studio while I practice for my big performance on July 11th, openly criticize me when it was not asked, then you insult me freely and follow me home. Now you are trying to introduce yourself? Silly boy. What are you playing at?" Her hands on her hips she taps her foot, "I'm waiting."

"Oh you want me to apologize?"

"Hmm?"

"Alright I apologize."

"That's better."

"But I don't think I need to," he smiles.

"And why not?" Annmarie frowns.

"Because I don't need to! I was just merely giving my opinion! It is a free country isn't it!" he raised his arms up high.

"What?! Insulting me, being rude, you really think that's allowed? You think that's merely giving your opinon?" she raises her voice.

"Yes, I think it is allowed, no one's stopping me. Plus, I was being considerate. Thought you could use some criticism. You need all the help you can get, dancing like that."

"Well, never in all my life I have met a boy like you!"

That was their first encounter and conversation.

Annmarie was of course furious, and well, the boy, he still had his pride and head held high as if he was the right one.

They argued like that for weeks. For some reason, the boy kept on coming back to watch Annmarie. Some days he would yell out a comment or a rude remark. But other days he would just stay silent, or quiet. Or not even come at all. Good Riddance! thought Annmarie.

post to be continued...

French Vanilla

It may seem cliche, but I want to go to Paris.

Just to walk down the streets, carrying a tall cup of French Vanilla coffee from the nearest Starbucks. Yes, I know I said "French Vanilla" not to make a quick pun or anything referring to the french, but I really do like French Vanilla. It's my absolute favourite.

I'd have my thick black wool trench coat on, along with a flowy scarf wrapped around my neck, the ends hanging loosely behind me as the wind comes upon me.

While walking past that stone building with black swirly railings and small balconies next to each other, I'd take a sip from my warm and tall cup of what tasted like heaven in my mouth.

Loose strands of my dark brown hair would fly around my face, some falling on my flushed cheeks. Grinning, I tuck some strands behind my ear and a couple back into the almost fallen messy bun. As I do that, I stop walking at the end of the sidewalk.

Standing still, next to a tall black lamp post, I slowly look up at the wonder in front of me. Eyes, glistening with excitement and awe. My cupid's bow lips curving in, forming two small dimples on my face. In other words, I am absolutely wonderstruck.

La dame de fer, standing 1,063 ft tall on the Champ de Mars was right in front of me. The puddle iron lattice tower, built 122 years prior reflected my eyes.

The most prominent symbol for Paris and France, named after it's designer: Gustave Eiffel, it filled my thoughts.

Yes readers... I'm talking about The Eiffel Tower.

I stood there for a while examining it. How I would only see it in pictures, it's silhouette against the refulgent sunrise from the Trocadero. Beautiful, even in the photos. But seeing it in real life for the first time is really quite magical. Even feels magical.
For a moment, just a small moment, I felt little sparks.

It's really beautiful. I admired the architecture; the triangles, curves, and arches.

A striking piece of structural art, I thought.

When I took my eyes off of the tower, an old couple was walking down the path underneath the arch of the Eiffel, smiling and holding hands. Their white and grayed hairs close together, the woman rested her head on his shoulder as he put his arm around her, holding her close like she was the only woman in the world.

A wind blew the man's hat off his head, falling to the ground. The woman gasped and the man only just smiled, turning around and bent down to pick it up.

He picked it up and twirled it upside down, bowing to the woman, making her giggle. She then curtsied and closed her eyes preparing to dance.
The man took her hands gently, surrounding her in his arms and dancing lovingly on the path.

Another wind blew by, this time making the brown, red, orange and yellow leaves sway close to the ground, following the couple's feet. The branches of the leafless trees also seemed to sway back and forth, dancing along with the couple. The sky shone brightly, a wave of colours: pink, blue, orange swirled behind the clouds. It was a perfect mise en scene.

I threw out my empty Starbucks cup into the trash bin. Putting my hands in my coat pockets, I started walking down that path, passing the lovely old couple. I could tell that they were deeply in love. The way they would stare into each other's eyes, like they were the only two people in the world, having no worries or cares about anything at all. Just living for the moment.

I smiled at that thought. I hope to have that someday.

Maybe I'll grow old and come back to Paris again when that happens, at this spot, with the love of my life, and his arms wrapped around me. Only God knows.

I sat down on a nearby bench, leaning back comfortably, with my right foot tucked behind my left and my hands on my lap, looking at the brilliant sky. Admiring the glowing sunset, I am thankful.

I closed my eyes, balancing out the many thoughts that entered my head and only thought of one special thought.

Thank you God for bringing me here.

When I opened my eyes, the stunning Paris view was gone. Instead, what took its place was four large windows, drapes hanging from it, and a radiantly glowing full moon outside. I was back home.

I sighed and rested my cheek on my hand.

Lost in thought, I thought.

I grabbed the blanket and a small white pillow, cuddled on the couch, I closed my eyes and fell asleep.

I had left the hot mug of French Vanilla Coffee on the side table. For the morning.
Along with my reveries.