Diary of a Lost Wanderer

Sitting thousands of miles away from the place I grew up calling home, this evening I have this strange feeling of being homesick. But to be home sick, I had to know where my home was isn’t it? The place I grew up was made up of bricks and mortar and could be called a house but never a home. It never eluded the warmth of being a home. Nevertheless, home it still was. It after all was my sole companion on all the silent nights I had spent crying alone and those unending days when detested being alive.  Source:  NYOOOZ

Source:  Pinterest How often do we underestimate the power of stories hidden within our family! This isn’t about such a story but about a possible alternate ending to one that has been haunting me since days. So I am sharing it here. 

Source:  LoveThisPic Tonight, my soul smells like you.  It takes me those winter afternoons when we watched the movie called life through our rose tinted glasses and laughed at our dreams. That song which held our secrets is no longer hidden. And our story, well that is still being written. 

A new month, new day and a new week starts with a new desk. The old one had began to creek, just like my thoughts. Sometimes disturbingly noisy while sometimes it was soothing like the morning music. Nevertheless, I believe it managed to scare my writing muse away for the time being. For it simply refuses to come hither. While my muse travels to gather stories for me, my soul travels to gather fairy dust for me. After all, what is life without magic!  " We travel, some of us forever, to seek other states, other lives, other souls. " - Anaïs Nin  Source: Pinterest