Set Meridian

The world moved past the window in a quiet, steady blur, a soft backdrop to the rhythm of breathing filling the car. From the passenger seat, I looked back. Three heads were tilted against the headrests, caught in the heavy, trusting sleep of a long afternoon drive. A hand lay limp on a knee, fingers slightly curled. In the quiet cabin, the passing landscape felt less like a playground and more li...

The car door slammed shut with a satisfying clunk, and the engine hummed to life, vibrating under our feet like a pulse, well almost since it was the hum of an electric car. We were finally moving. The radio was cranked up, we took turns to fill the cabin with each others tastes in music. Outside, the morning sun was just hitting the asphalt, turning the highway into a glittering ribbon that stret...

In twilight hush, the eye unfolds, Mushroom veils where time dissolves. Breathe the glow, let thoughts unwind, Contemplation's trip, serene and blind. Explore vast chambers, secrets unfold, Discover truths in patterns bold. Understand the flow, the inner tide, Dominate the trip with mind as guide. Wander deeper, realms ignite, Unveil the core in neon light. Master illusions, claim the throne, Conq...

We sit on the dark grass, far away from the city lights. You hold my warm hand under the bright moon. Suddenly, a shooting star falls fast across the sky. We both close our eyes and make a quiet wish. When I open mine, I do not look back up at the stars. I look at your beautiful face. My only wish is to stay right here with you.

We arrived at the beach early, when the sea still looked calm and the day felt light. We walked barefoot near the water, letting the waves reach us while the breeze carried that salty smell only the ocean has. For a while, everything felt easy. But little by little, the beach became more like itself. The sun grew harsh, sand got into everything, the wind kept blowing towels around, and the noise o...

“Do you ever feel the wind changing before it arrives?” asked the small fern beside the riverbank. The older plant swayed gently. “Sometimes. But not always.” “I kept growing toward the morning light,” the fern said. “Then the trees above me changed. Now the light comes from somewhere else. Yesterday the rain was too much. Today there is none at all. I thought if I rooted myself carefully enough,...

Don’t expect everything to go your way. It won’t. When things flow, ride it. Don’t overthink it, don’t try to control it, just keep flowing with it. When they don’t, don’t lose your cool. Keep going, adjust, stay steady. Don’t waste energy fighting what already happened, use it to move forward. Some days will feel slow, almost stuck, but that doesn’t mean you’ve lost direction. It just means the c...

I used to think life was about finding someone. Like there was this one moment, this one person, and everything before that was just waiting. So I rushed it. I tried to make things fit, tried to recognize “the one” before I even knew who I was. And every time it almost worked, until it didn’t. For a long time, I thought I was just unlucky. But looking back, I wasn’t ready. Not in some dramatic way...

In the early hours, before the sun decides what the day will be, a thin layer of dew settles quietly over the garden. No one notices it arriving. It doesn’t fall like rain or announce itself like a storm. It just gathers, droplet by droplet, until every leaf holds a small, shining weight. The plants don’t reach for it. They simply receive. By the time the light touches them, something subtle has a...

I was walking like I always do, not really paying attention, just following the rhythm of steps and thoughts, letting one carry the other. There was something in my head I’d been turning over, not quite solving, but pretending I was close. Then I turned a corner. Nothing dramatic, just a normal street, same buildings, same kind of quiet. But something felt off. Not wrong exactly, just… unfamiliar....

I was just walking, nothing special, one of those autopilot moments where your body moves and your mind is somewhere else entirely. Then, out of nowhere, I caught my foot on… honestly, I still don’t know what. Maybe pride. And suddenly I was falling. You know that split second where your brain realizes what’s happening but your body hasn’t accepted it yet? That weird in-between? That’s where it ha...

At the edge of the clearing, where the light settles like a held breath, two paths meet. They were never meant to. For a long time, they ran apart, one bending toward shadow, the other drifting into open sun. Seasons passed over them differently. One grew quiet under fallen leaves, softened by time and distance. The other stayed exposed, worn by light, its edges sharper, its direction clearer, but...

A pale path curves through a wide green park; gravel whispering under slow footsteps, tall trees lifting their branches into a loose roof of leaves. Open lawns breathe quietly between them; bicycles pass, shadows drift, the afternoon settles gently on the grass. Nothing about the moment asks to stay. Yet years later I walk those paths again, listening to the same old music that once explored drift...

There are corners of the mind that stay unlit on purpose. Not forgotten, just avoided. They collect bad thoughts, old experiences, half-formed ideas that were never meant to grow. They sit there quietly, patient, like pressure building underground. Most days, discipline holds. Routine. Distraction. Work. Noise. The effort feels clean, controlled. But boredom loosens the seal. Feeling jaded widens...

The orchestra plays. You are there, instrument in hand, following the arrangement.
The notes begin high, careful, and you attack them with passion.
Each one is placed with intent, balanced on the edge of a tightrope. Then one slip.
Not loud, not dramatic, perhaps not even noticeable.
You panic, and the tumbling begins.
One note out of place, just enough to tilt the rest. What follows looks like fa...

At dawn, when the world is still undecided about the day, a small bird begins her work. She doesn’t rush. She gathers what most would overlook: a loose feather, a dry blade of grass, a thread dropped by someone who never noticed it fall. One by one, she brings them back to a narrow branch and fits them together. The nest is imperfect, uneven, and fragile. It is enough. She doesn’t need grand plans...

So there we were, resting after dinner around the campfire, when suddenly the fire looked different than on other nights; and that’s putting it mildly. 
The flames weren’t just flickering; they were swirling, twisting, and dancing together in these wild, interlaced ribbons of electric blue, vivid pink, and fiery orange, shooting up from the logs like arms reaching for the sky, escaping the woodpil...

The park glowed like a Van Gogh painting brought to life. Every tree wore a jacket of leaves in yellow and orange, shimmering under a sun that seemed to smile just for the two of us. The air was still, carrying only the soft rustle of leaves falling in slow motion, each one a quiet reminder of the season. You walked by my side, your steps sinking gently into the thick carpet of yellow, orange, and...

The city wakes like a lazy cat stretching in gold.
 Buildings yawn into the sky, their glass eyes dripping sunlight.
 You step out, and the pavement smiles back, warm, melting a little under your shoes. The air tastes like oranges, static, and a peel of daydreams.
 Someone laughs in slow motion; pigeons do pirouettes held by invisible strings.
 Every window is a mirror, and every mirror shows a di...

[English below] A veces el alma se rompe en silencio. Te miro y entiendo que ya no estás, aunque sigas aquí. Tu risa suena lejana, tu mirada busca algo que no soy. Dame tu vida, aunque sea por un instante, para entender en qué momento la perdí. No sé en qué punto dejamos de encontrarnos, ni cuándo empezó esta distancia que ya no se mide en días, sino en miradas vacías. Me doy cuenta de que no fue...

I have, for the sake of clarity (though clarity is precisely what continues to elude me), begun keeping a list , no, not a list, that implies completion , a ledger of every conversation that might have meant something. Every glance. Every pause too long or too short. Because surely meaning must hide in ratios: the seconds she lingered before saying my name versus the average time in which one says...

It’s quiet now. Too quiet. And yet, in the stillness, I still hear you. Your laughter, your stories, they rise up from somewhere inside me, like echoes that will never fade. They’re not just memories. They are part of me, stitched into who I am. I don’t need to ask why you left. I knew, even before the end came, as someone close to me had often reminded me. We had lived the story together, and I c...

Mine, not yours. Grab it, stash it, stack it high, No reason, no season, just a hungry eye. Mine, not yours. Plates collapse, pockets roar, They don’t mean harm, but they take it all, Like it’s law, like I grab more. Mine, not yours. With hands full, scoop the loot, Olives, crumbs, the last sip too. Innocent chaos, nothing left for you. Mine, not yours. Mine, not yours. No sharing, no caring, no p...

The road stretched far ahead quiet and unhurried. At first it seemed endless, as though time itself had folded into repetition. The surface carried a strange shimmer, chromatic stones shifting in hue with the angle of light, sometimes dull, sometimes radiant, never quite the same. A fleeting look might dismiss it as monotony, yet in stillness you could see that there was movement everywhere: shado...

When everything around and within is in harmony, peace settles like a perfect garden, tucked between whispering trees, beside a still lake, where the fire crackles low and the air carries nothing but calm.