I Just Watched Lost And Found (天涯海角) 1996, And I’m Still Thinking About It. The Way It Starts

All you had to do was stay.

Sometimes, all you need is to trace back the warmth that once lived in your heart, before the cold ever crept in and left you with nothing.

“It was not the feeling of completeness I so needed, but the feeling of not being empty.”

— Jonathan Safran Foer; Everything Is Illuminated

I forgot to mention they’re also the funniest little creatures everrrr

Of all the things that remind me of love, cats are at the top of the list. Their eyes hold something different, something enchanting, like a silent understanding of the world around them. They love in their own way—warm, selfish, and a little bratty, like a child who thinks you belong to them. Sometimes, they act like your baby, sometimes like your boss. Every single one of them has a personality that makes me want to meet them all, build a whole cat family, and just exist among them.

Orange cats are pure chaos, but somehow the softest souls. White cats carry themselves like royalty, too elegant to bother with the rest of the world. Gray cats act all calm and collected, but they’re little troublemakers once you know them. Black cats hold a quiet kind of love, the kind that feels steady and safe. And tuxedo cats walk around like they own the place, like they just left a fancy dinner party and decided to grace us with their presence.

Every cat feels like a reflection of someone, a reminder of a certain kind of soul. And the best thing about them? When one chooses you, they’re yours forever. They love in a way that’s awkward yet endearing, poking at you when you’re sad, pulling away just to come right back. And the way they get jealous when you pet another cat? Nothing beats that.

There’s nothing quite like having a cat in your life, feeding them, talking to them, sharing a space where words aren’t needed. In a way, they remind me of my inner child—curious, stubborn, and full of love in ways that don’t always make sense. Maybe every cat carries a little piece of someone, a little piece of us. But all I know is, I love them, and I’ll never get tired of saying it.

It’s funny how some friends acting like a crazy ex is worse than having an actual ex

I realize this love isn't a fleeting thought, but something that only grows stronger with each passing day. It's not just a feeling—it's a commitment, one that has no end in sight. No matter how much time passes, day by day, I fall for you anew.

Of all the things that remind me of love, cats are at the top of the list. Their eyes hold something different, something enchanting, like a silent understanding of the world around them. They love in their own way—warm, selfish, and a little bratty, like a child who thinks you belong to them. Sometimes, they act like your baby, sometimes like your boss. Every single one of them has a personality that makes me want to meet them all, build a whole cat family, and just exist among them.

Orange cats are pure chaos, but somehow the softest souls. White cats carry themselves like royalty, too elegant to bother with the rest of the world. Gray cats act all calm and collected, but they’re little troublemakers once you know them. Black cats hold a quiet kind of love, the kind that feels steady and safe. And tuxedo cats walk around like they own the place, like they just left a fancy dinner party and decided to grace us with their presence.

Every cat feels like a reflection of someone, a reminder of a certain kind of soul. And the best thing about them? When one chooses you, they’re yours forever. They love in a way that’s awkward yet endearing, poking at you when you’re sad, pulling away just to come right back. And the way they get jealous when you pet another cat? Nothing beats that.

There’s nothing quite like having a cat in your life, feeding them, talking to them, sharing a space where words aren’t needed. In a way, they remind me of my inner child—curious, stubborn, and full of love in ways that don’t always make sense. Maybe every cat carries a little piece of someone, a little piece of us. But all I know is, I love them, and I’ll never get tired of saying it.

it’s me vs. my mind everyday.

But maybe the fire means you're alive— deeply alive. That even when it hurts this much, it's proof of your ability to love, to feel, to be human in a way that's raw and real.

Needed

if it's good enough for you, then it deserves to be made. don't let anyone else decide if your story is worth it or not.

كالنهر الهادر في اندفاعه،

كالريح العاصف،بيهز الكون

بكل ثورة النار القايدة،بتدمر اللي قصادها مهما يكون