A wildflower · 13d
i love hearing your thoughts on Wishbone, Galadriel.. the narrator make a wish in the end but don’t love me in a way i understand. indeed i know nothing, but we all know how. aren’t we all? if you love Wishbone, Galadriel.. would you try to read White Nights by Dostoevsky? it’s not a poem! but 'longing', i only thought of the two of them. and ah, Darwish reminds me of Wiji Tukul.
Galadriel.. i believe that love, in any form, is so much deeper. even if it comes from a 'devil,' it can still hold meaning and significance. love isn’t something that goes to waste; it just.. transforms us in ways we might not understand like Wishbone.
Galadriel, to come to you or talk to you, here, anywhere, in the nowhere. i need consent. would you still talk to me.. because i am nobody—i am just a young lady who loves poems and any literature. i do love movies. but once again, i am nobody, a humble woman who also loves talking. perhaps, thinking? tell me, Galadriel.. (again, it seems to me i shall never be tired of calling you Galadriel)
I’ll have to agree. It’s easier to understand how, instead of what. Some things are, indeed, meant to be unknown. Undiscovered. Unnamed. Unsaid. But perhaps after all we’ve been doing it. It’s been around us. And that’s alright to not know any of it. Surely, Wildflower. Putting the book on my list and will get to it once I get the time, this is a promise. Then, anything I should know about Wiji Tukul?
Perhaps. Perhaps. Love, however brief, however unjust, is not a waste. Then again, who are we to speak of love and the devil, right?
I am quite literally just some guy you’d meet down the street, Wildflower. Bet you can easily find me in anyone else. Though, I’d have the pleasure to welcome you around. Feel free to drop by for a sip of tea or coffee, whichever you prefer, and a talk, of course, shall you favour a company. We can be nobodies.
