Finding Joy

The Story of the Sky At the end of a long, hard day you know you are graced with the ability to view the blue satin that veils our world. With a single tilt of the head, your eyes can explore the night’s sky. Venture through its darkness, towards the pinpricks of light that are scattered across it. Like glitter glue smeared across a dark canvas. Your eyes gloss over the sky, skimming through the constellations that stud it.   Aquila. Auriga. Carina. Each one proclaiming tales of strength, hope and adventure. Stories that are age-old and eternally weaved into the fabrics of our universe. In this sense, the sky is a novel, with short stories interwoven between its sapphire covers. Anyone can read this book if they so choose, with a simple alteration to their posture. It’s full of words you’ve read thousands of times yet seem different and more magical each time you bend the spine... You’ve read the story of the moon and its rocky craters. How it orbits the Ear

Sitting in a Coffee Shop Joy is the gentle chime of the bell above the door signaling your arrival at this safe haven.  Nothing bad happens here. It's a meeting point for old friends, catching up after years of being apart. It is a welcome interlude in the hectic, monotonous days of working people.  But to you, it's a secluded section of Heaven, isolated on Earth for your enjoyment. As you walk through the door, the invigorating aroma of coffee hits you like a wall, immediately evicting the scents of the streets that had previously plagued you. A quick sweep of the eyes reveals the same, comforting scene that greets you everyday... The chalkboard-walls offer an extensive array of delectable delights, eager to entice you with Italian designations. These walls regimentally encase the soft wooden floor that will cushion each step you will soon make towards the counter. Above this, sway the vintage, hanging light bulbs. With a single flick of a switch,

Noses: Body Positivity: If I had a pound for every time I heard someone say, "I don't like my nose", I'd be rich. For some incomprehensible reason, we all seem to target and batter our noses and I can't understand why. I love the way your nose can alter the entirety of your face. The way it widens when you smile. The way it wrinkles when you laugh. The way your nostrils flare when you let out a contented sigh. I love the way everyone's nose is different. Some are smaller. Some are bigger. Some are freckled. Some are sloped. Some have ridges. Some have points. But they're all beautiful. It's with your nose you smell the scent of the freshly-made goods, rising in the oven, soon to fill your gaping hunger with their delectable tastes. The zingy fragrance of citrus cakes. The invigorating aroma of coffee-infused bakes. The sweet, floury scents submerge the room, tainting the walls and fabrics, making your stomach rumble in glee as the tim