Drunk on fun.

# 8 notes

So I stumbled upon a little lake, a quaint little lake, I would like to put it, since it was shaped like a teardrop and no larger than the largest bathtub I’ve seen. Pebbles of silver lined its shore, beckoning and I resisted a sudden urge to pick up one of those marvellous, smooth rocks to see how many skips I could do. Eight, no, at least ten I reckoned. The water was still and the clarity of my reflection astounded me. It looked astonishingly better than HD, hell, it looked better than real life. It was as if light refracted a little different here, perhaps the apertures I peered out from under these eyelids widened magically. Wondrously. Somehow. Shrubs and strange looking flowers peered from under the mirror, indigo and deep passionate red. It was quiet, peaceful, the only sound I could hear was the faint rustling of the breeze playing with the bushes from where I entered. This place is paradise. This place couldn’t possibly exist in my world. This world, I mused, since I’ve belonged here as much as a mudskipper belonged on deck. Or parrots in cages. Or a sailor in a library. I digress. This place is sacred, Eden I surmised, if scriptures were true and Eden sank perhaps to Earth after Eve’s folly. I closed my eyes and let my senses drift outwards. Strange to see someone standing in the most beautiful place, as close to Heaven as there is, and closing his eyes. Foolishly strange. I’ve always been strange, at least people say that. Not in my face, but I’ve heard them whisper a million times. Teachers tell Mum that. So do relatives during awkward visits and social pretend sessions. A deep inhalation. I’m in love. With a place. I had never experienced that, but this was my sacred grove, my asylum now. Anywhere else would be a purgatory, a blasphemy to this perfection. And then, my probably dilated pupils saw a faint ripple at the edge of the lake where I was standing.

—

Chen Zixuan.

Behind your looks of childhood lie a secret smile of knowledge.

I hope you’re in your sacred grove.

death passing friend zixuan rantings