I don't have a fancy notebook.
Just a cheap one with white clean pages waiting for my words.
To become a part of me, a record of thoughts.
A notebook and a blog.
Few thoughts become written words because I can't express most of them. My eyes usually do it better. Still I write.

And tonight I'm missing to seat at the beach, in a cold rainny day.
Just me and the ocean, with no human sounds around to mess up that moment of intimacy.
Just me and the waves.
Coming and going, along with my feelings.
Strong and yet unconstant...
My tattoo tells a big part of this relationship.
Mixed feelings of one same existance.

Waves breaking down... the power of change and hope.
The wake up call.

Reassuring and peaceful at the same time.

I wish I could see the ocean from my window and walk just right to it.