What a stubborn child. Still sitting in the middle of nowhere, heart in hand. Hearts don’t mend like that – only sell. And you can’t afford that, can you?
What a stubborn, stubborn child.
Tag Archives: heart
of invisible second chances
I could have given a better answer, I thought to myself just a while (longer than a moment, shorter than minutes) after having exited his room. I could have given a better answer. How many times we find ourselves thinking, feeling, living this — I could have given a better answer. Could – but didn’t. And to learn to live with this little regret – one that amounts to literally NOTHING in the Grand Scheme of Things; to painfully watch how it unfurls inside of you, then finds a way out, crawls on your skin until you are covered, completely, in its inglorious cobweb-y silver thread. You are itching. Continually. I could have given a better answer, and I must stop thinking about it.
kāˌäs
The solid mass that a jungle of scribbled lines create. That shapeless bunch of black with white gaps, that disorderly pen creation. That is what anxiety forms in heart. Just puts it there on the floor—the weighty bundle of chaos. I was wondering if I could put this emotion into words while I felt it. And if it would, in any way, lessen it. Guess it didn’t~
The sea calls
The waves were full of voice unlike the world around them. Everywhere was silent, and the only other sounds were so soft you wouldn’t mind them. Like: the stars’ gentle sparkle, off on, off on, creating silver splashes in the vast water; the moon’s direct beams falling on its rubber surface like a spear cutting right through; my own breathing in harmony with each swift move of the said sea. It was only a matter of present, the moments synced to the space, emitting the same power: of might, of being the only thing that mattered.
Life is not a bed of roses. You say that like it’s a good thing. If I am not happy slash I feel really bad about something, there must be a way to make it right. You can’t shirk that responsibility and simply put it on those look-good quotes. Because first of all, I never asked for a bed of roses. And if that’s what you want to bring up, tell me why it becomes important only when I most need a rose? Life’s not fair, life’s a test, life’s a this, life’s crap. I don’t care about that, I care about now.
I walk further into the benevolent stretch and find the waves welcoming me. Singing more joyfully, as if meeting friends was a custom for them too. I look down and smile, and then half sit. My hand meets water and a shiver runs through me.
Why am I still scared? How could someone be aware of something and still be unable to get out of it? How can you not be your own magician, tricking life to set on the right zone again?
There’s no direction when you are standing between waves. There is just immensity. A compass self-connects to the tick tock of the heart, and there the music stays, for as long as the heart lives…
Randomly Abstract 