there are a few things that bring me pleasure and satisfaction more than anything else; and yet in comparison to certain substantial experiences, they are such small, trivial aspects of my daily life.
+ buying a new journal; a new pen.
+ opening the starbucks bottle of frappuccino. there’s a particular sound it makes when you twist the lid. I listen to it every single time; sometimes even unconsciously.
+ finding an entire bookshelf in my regular bookstore that I didn’t know was there. full of books on psychology; abnormal psychology and mental disorders, psychology of a language etc. I spent the whole afternoon going through each of them. my own psyche in heaven.
+ meeting a university representative and feeling like I’ve finally found a place that would be just perfect for me. and her name was sara, too. we rule the world, clearly.
+ buying kebabs in plastic bags, going on the roof, chatting with a friend for over two hours. laughing, sitting quietly, just talking about bullshit. but it means so much more.
+ february stars; a new playlist. it’s a monthly thing now.
+ eating spaghetti bolognese for breakfast.
+ a cup of coffee. always, any time of the day.
post scriptum, yes, I am fully aware that it should be basis not basic. my hand went off. I haven’t handwritten anything for months. and if you haven’t even noticed, then good for you.