Small Ocean in the Corner

A quiet tank
Breathing blue light
in the corner of the room.

Pebbles hold small stories
of water and waiting,
plants sway like soft thoughts
no one hears.

The lamp hums gently
above a glass horizon,
turning an ordinary night
into a small ocean.

Outside, the room sleeps—
couch, curtain, shadow.

Inside,
a world floats
in patient silence.

Developing My Concrete Jungle

I’ve started transforming my apartment into a small jungle. Not a wild one, but a calm, patient one. Plants now lean toward the windows, their leaves catching light like forests catching rain. In one corner, a small aquarium glows like a contained ocean, its water softly reflecting onto the walls. Maybe a fountain will show up later.

The living room feels different now. The air is slower, calmer, as if the plants and water are teaching the space how to rest. What was once just furniture and walls is turning into something alive—something that grows, waits, and listens.

In the middle of the city, surrounded by concrete and noise, I am slowly creating a space where green plants recall the rhythms of forests, waterfalls, and rivers. A small jungle, yes—but also a reminder that life persists in growing, even indoors.

I’m trying to revive six pots of orchids, which are delicate and withered. I don’t mind having more flowers like palms, creeping plants, and non-venomous insects and small reptiles or mammals (in enclosures or coops, of course), as well as some fish and snails (for the fish tank), and maybe birds. Right now, four out of ten flower pots are thriving. I don’t have big pets like cats or dogs right now because they require a lot of care, and I barely have time for that with my PhD. Everything will arrive gradually. So far, the fish tank with live plants throughout the apartment needs proper maintenance, and that’s already enough work. Good night.