Sunday, August 30

A smile from a stranger, on the sidewalks.

I woke up and I didn't know where I am. The unfamiliar ceiling. Thick comforter wrapping my body. The distant noises. The study desk. A pile of clothes in a white basket.

Then I remember. I turn around. I'm no longer home.

A year.
I realized who is who. Who I am. And who you are.

A week,
since the semester started. Well, not bad. Now that I knew what is the meaning of how time flies.

I was working at Joegies last Friday and had a good chat with my colleagues, Sierra. We both drank a bottle of chocolate milk and she was so happy to have a drink that she told me something,

"It's the small thing that makes you happy. It's not a thousand dollar, neither a rich husband. But a bottle of your favorite milk" and I agreed.

It's the first sip of your coffee. The good movie. Lying on bed all evening reading a good novel. A good sleep on a Friday night. A card from your loved ones. A cake that you baked yourself. A new shoes. An umbrella on a rainy day. A talk with a friend.The smell of the laundry.Weekend and your bed.Songs that you love.A smile from a stranger you met on the sidewalks on your bad hair day.

I don't have to win a lottery, or own a sports car.

It's the little thing that you always forget, but brings a thousand meaning.
And those little things, bring me happiness.