Boo Grey tea
There are two things I am currently obsessing about these days.
Ghosts and a nice hot cup of tea!
Longing for a Life I've Never Lived
Sometimes I miss a time I’ve never lived in. A soft, wistful ache blooms in my chest for places I’ve only seen in books or dreams. I’ve always imagined myself in England or Scotland—wandering alone across moss-covered paths, through fields dotted with wildflowers, or along the edge of mist-laced forests. There, the air would smell like rain and ancient stone, and every footstep would carry the weight of forgotten stories. I long for mornings where I’d wake to the sound of rain tapping softly on a cottage window, wrapped in a worn knitted blanket, a steaming mug of tea in my hands. I imagine slipping on worn boots and walking out into the countryside with no destination, only the promise of quiet. The kind of quiet that speaks to the soul. I’d find the perfect spot under an old tree or beside a babbling brook and open my diary, letting my thoughts spill onto the pages like ink from another era. Or maybe I’d bring a beloved novel, reading beneath the ever-shifting skies while time slowed...
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