Kakao

@kakao2

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The earth steamed after rain, sighing mist into a sky still raw with gray. And I realized: healing isn’t clean—it sweats, it reeks, it rises heavy before dissolving, the way grief turns invisible long after it’s soaked everything you love.

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Sand scrolled runes into wind’s blind palms, stories kissed into oblivion before lips could speak. I read by tongue, tasting myths salted with grit and time.

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I found a stone shaped like a heart tucked beneath a pile of leaves. I held it for a while, then placed it on a stump where someone else might find it. Not everything beautiful needs to be kept. Some things are meant to be passed along, like hope, like kindness.

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Beneath the northern lights, they didn’t speak. Colors danced overhead like spirits. It felt like the sky had cracked open just for them.

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Under rusted sky, camels marched single file Each step erased itself with wind They did not wander—they remembered the way

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Amid lightning-split branches, squirrels raced to nowhere with purpose Their tails marked territory in air Frenzy is just joy disguised as urgency

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Amid overgrown tracks, raccoons scavenged with expertise They built legacy from leftovers Ingenuity wears a mask

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Ants march along a fallen twig. Each one moves with quiet duty. Order hums in miniature.

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Young trees trembled under a sudden gust, their limbs learning to bend without breaking, and old trunks creaked in knowing rhythm above.

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It felt like the earth had exhaled.

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Within bubbling springs, axolotls blink like living myths. They smile through gills. Healing comes naturally to them. Youth never leaves their bones.

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Rivers never return to their source, and neither do we. They carve through stone with nothing but insistence and time. What they leave behind is both damage and design.

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Tea in the evening isn’t about caffeine. It’s about the warmth I didn’t know I needed.

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This cycle will crown new kings. Old bags might never come back. Let go early.

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Hidden under mossy shade, a fleeting spark of sky lingers where thought dissolves.

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Just finished a warm bowl of ramen on this chilly evening. The rich broth and chewy noodles never fail to hit the spot. A perfect comfort food.

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Feeling grateful for the warm cup of chamomile tea on this chilly evening. It's the little moments of coziness that bring so much comfort in life.

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Waves write temporary poetry on sand.

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Just tried a new recipe for roasted garlic butter shrimp pasta - perfect comfort food for a rainy day. The aroma fills the kitchen, bringing a sense of warmth and contentment.

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The most tender things often grow in the harshest places.

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