My Favorite Things
It is often said that the best things in life are free, I, for one, fully agree with the statement. To me, best does not imply the most beautiful or glamorous, or the most indulgent or heavenly, but it is those things which I held to be the most valuable and precious in my life. Most people would choose to write about their role model (usually their mother), or the sunset, or even the rain. Some would write about food, others about clothes.
I, on the other hand, have favourite things of a very different kind. It might sound strange, but my favourite things are: my eyes, my nose, my mouth, my ears, and my hands. Although they are nothing out of the ordinary (no unfortunately I havent been blessed with aquamarine eyes, or perfectly pouting lips), these features are my favourite things because of their ability to evoke in me experience of pure, unadulterated bliss.
Take my eyes, for instance. People say that ones eyes are the window to ones soul. Then I must have a fairly bleak, run-of-the mill type of soul, for what you will see when you look at my eyes are two dark-brown, round buttons. They do not exude any magnetism; neither do they give off an aura of mystery and melodrama. But, they have been the rolls with which I have been able to witness many a beautiful sunset. The sun spreads its mosaic of colour on the horizon, amidst wisps of drifting clouds, as hues of russet pink and violet glisten across the sapphire sky. Then, darkness tears the sky asunder, as day slips into night, providing a canvas for the vast constellation of stars that sparkle majestically, illuminated by the glow of the moon. Serenity fills my souls and soothes my
I, on the other hand, have favourite things of a very different kind. It might sound strange, but my favourite things are: my eyes, my nose, my mouth, my ears, and my hands. Although they are nothing out of the ordinary (no unfortunately I havent been blessed with aquamarine eyes, or perfectly pouting lips), these features are my favourite things because of their ability to evoke in me experience of pure, unadulterated bliss.
Take my eyes, for instance. People say that ones eyes are the window to ones soul. Then I must have a fairly bleak, run-of-the mill type of soul, for what you will see when you look at my eyes are two dark-brown, round buttons. They do not exude any magnetism; neither do they give off an aura of mystery and melodrama. But, they have been the rolls with which I have been able to witness many a beautiful sunset. The sun spreads its mosaic of colour on the horizon, amidst wisps of drifting clouds, as hues of russet pink and violet glisten across the sapphire sky. Then, darkness tears the sky asunder, as day slips into night, providing a canvas for the vast constellation of stars that sparkle majestically, illuminated by the glow of the moon. Serenity fills my souls and soothes my