our tiny galaxy

welcome to our tiny galaxy - a tea room where we pour our thoughts and serve them to you with cookies and cream.

[violentwavesofemotion-deactivat]

Paul Celan, tr. by Patrick Cotter, from Selected Poems; “Crowned Out,”  c. 1967

[0urtinygalaxy]

The product of last night’s insomnia.

This is my musician’s attempt at Art.

The quote is from Grammarly’s FB page. grammarlyblog

[0urtinygalaxy]

hello long time friends scattered across the globe but it's been too long

[0urtinygalaxy]

when did we wake up as childish adults only to go back to sleep

[0urtinygalaxy]

the sound of rain rampages through my headphones like an intrepid calvary

[0urtinygalaxy]

Out of a suitcase Four, three, two days at a time How much longer now? I started writing all these haikus because they are fun for jet-lagged-induced insomniacs. Travel is fun but so exhausting at times... thankfully, now home again.

[0urtinygalaxy]

Window breeze —Away!
Your dreamland awaits— Until
tomorrow, my friend.

[0urtinygalaxy]

Some travel poetry

Jet-lagged: mosquitos the only witnesses to my insomnia

[0urtinygalaxy]

The product of last night’s insomnia.

This is my musician’s attempt at Art.

The quote is from Grammarly’s FB page. grammarlyblog

[starsforsugar]

Luna and Sol are friends, they live together in a small wooden house in the woods.

Every night after dinner they’d go outside to watch the moon rise into the sky.

Luna told Sol:

"I want to fly to the moon."

And with the Harry Potter movie fresh on her mind from the night before Luna decided...

[0urtinygalaxy]

Caterpillar Love

Two caterpillars fell in love, they held hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands,and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, ad hands, and hands, and hands, and hands, and hands.

<3

[0urtinygalaxy]

Bear, Macarons, Clouds

Bear, Macarons, Clouds

Once upon a time there was a bear.

He was left behind by his family that was inside jail.

His mother, father and brother was charged with the murder of a young blonde girl.

Named Goldilocks.

The young bear wants to visit them in jail.

But he needs something sweet and light.

Because he has a brilliant plan.

So he goes on a search to find macarons.

Specifically, cloud flavored ones.

He went to bakery after bakery, and walked until his paws are raw from walking and his mouth sugary from tasting. 

And finally, he found a small bakeshop in the middle of a swamp.

Inside is a witch who made countless macarons in the most exquisite flavors and her penguin who serves the most interesting coffees. 

The bear ordered a huge box of cloud flavored macarons and brought them to the visiting room at the jail.

He proudly presented his box of macarons in his raw paws and gave his family a sweet smile.

That night the bear family ate all the macarons and floated, with a stomach full of clouds, over the high prison walls, across the lands and slowly drifted back to their small home in the woods.

There they found the young bear awaiting their arrival with fresh porridge, just the way they like it. 

The end ^ ^

[0urtinygalaxy]

“Hi there, Good morning! You hair, It looks great. By the way, I’ve been thinking… We should go on a date...

I think you’re really cute, And smart, and talented and strong, With a great sense of humour, to boot (And also, I like the way you smell). Well, I, at least, think we’d really get along...

Anyway, You look beautiful today (But then, you always do). The point is, I adore you. I’d do anything for you."

These are the things I wish I could say To you. They’re all true. But somehow I never do. So now that I’ve found the guts, No Ifs, Ands, or Buts. Today’s the day I’ll finally come through And say: “I like you."

Just kidding. Still not brave enough to confess to the person I like. Like AJ Rafael in this song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CBqkciiW58I Happy Valentine's! :/

[0urtinygalaxy]

Better this way - a (very) short story

Two girls lifted the lid of the piano. Lé watched as Kun pulled over a chair, though the piano bench alone was wide enough for two to have sat side by side, knees grazing.

The chorale book was dug up and placed on the stand. Kun flipped it open to Jesu meine freude. “You play soprano and alto, I’ll play tenor and bass, okay?” she said.

“Sure,” agreed Lé as she took her spot on the right side of the piano.

With a breath and a heartbeat, they began. Their movements were awkward and soft-spoken. Lé watched Kun: her fingers were uncertain, grasping for fermatas, and she bit her lip with a rueful smile, but her eyes were bright.

“You’re looking for an F sharp there,” noted Lé gently. “And I think we’re in the wrong octaves. Here, play an octave up.”

“Oh.” Kun shifted her hand position, and the girls glanced at each other and laughed as they continued on. The tenor and alto lines met, and their fingers crossed briefly, Kun’s unsteady and Lé’s sure. So they made their way in honky-tonk order, hoping no piano majors would walk by the room and hear them. And though she knew she could have played it many times better alone, Lé found that she liked it better this way.

[0urtinygalaxy]

Graffiti on a staircase near LA's Angel's Flight and Grand Central Market. Wonder who wrote it and why?

[0urtinygalaxy]

I'm sifting for sleep half-conscious mind sands bury desires dreams give way

[chungsi]

A Poem Because I was Feeling Melancholic

[0urtinygalaxy]

You derive our world into simplicity, Transform simple games into mystery;

You promise a piece of the universe, Your fraction of this dimension, a new language to converse.

Let us transcend law, Lay tangent for infinity; Let our growth be a function of our love — Continuous towards infinity.

Diligently, I’ll find your secrets with passion invariant; I’ll prove your beauty and abstraction, make your charm apparent, That, one day, I may call you mine, And me, yours:

A Mathematician.

by chungsi