I read the Perfume novel by Patrick Suskind. It tells about a man searching for the best recipe to create a perfume that could spread love.
But that’s not the best perfume for me. It’s the smell of the rain — petrichor — that smells the best. Because it’s natural, and because it’s rare. Not every rain you get to smell a perfume so magical, so earthy. Continue reading
A knackered mind can only do so little than usually. That’s why I haven’t posted for several days.
My creativity is destroyed; my imagination is limited to just what I have to know so I could pass college. My mind is weary.
Wish I could go back to the past, being kids again. Never have to worry about the future. You don’t have to worry about life, about death, about failure.
Kids, their minds are never knackered. 🙂
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