A more light-hearted thought dump than the last two since I'm still procrastinating 20.12's life update and my revision!!
My ideal hideaway
My ideal hideaway isn’t anywhere you could find on a map. It’s tucked away in the folds of a forgotten forest, where the trees grow tall and thick, their roots twisting into the earth like veins. There’s a small clearing, just big enough for a cabin, made of dark, weathered wood that smells faintly of pine. It’s not fancy—just cozy. A chimney that always seems to be puffing smoke, a porch with a rocking chair that creaks softly in the wind. Inside, it’s warm. There’s a fireplace that crackles with orange flames, casting dancing shadows on the walls. The floors are covered with mismatched rugs, worn soft from years of footsteps. Books are stacked everywhere—on shelves, in piles on the floor, even balanced precariously on the arms of the couch. They’re the kind of books that feel alive, their pages worn thin by other hands that loved them before me. In the corner, there’s a record player, its needle ready to drop onto a vinyl. Music drifts through the space like a ghost—soft, haunting melodies that feel like they belong here. The air always smells faintly of coffee and something sweet, like cinnamon rolls or freshly baked cookies, even if I don’t remember baking them. The best part is the window. It takes up almost an entire wall, looking out over a lake so still it reflects the sky perfectly. Sometimes, when the fog rolls in, it feels like the lake doesn’t exist at all, just a misty void stretching into forever. And at night, the stars are so bright they look close enough to touch. Nobody knows about this place but me. No phones, no clocks, no deadlines. Just time—time to think, to dream, to breathe. Maybe it’s not just a place; maybe it’s a feeling. A sense of being untouchable, unhurried, unknown. And in my hideaway, I can finally be alone without feeling lonely.
Additional stuff!
I don't wanna workkkkkk
have a good day!!