#83 || TO THE MOON AND NEVER BACK

( you are all the colours in one, at full brightness )

Trust Disregard the darkness inside you and the loss of innocence without losing your purity. It might seem ingenuous to let yourself believe you are more intuitive than you tell yourself you are, but I promise it's okay and it might even probably be real. Sometimes the un-happy-ending you envisaged is inevitable, just like you knew it would be, but it's never the end until it's the end. And you'll know. Nobody, no-one ever deserves to be situated in the shadows and for all the heavy-heart-ache, I would never wish a reciprocation upon anybody   I don't understand why the overwhelming gratitude comes in waves, why can't it be a constant? But then I've always believed that emotions ebb and flow for perspective, so that you can appreciate the disparity for all that it's worth, for the dull ache, for the thrill and to not forget what it's like to want to keep going when you want to give up.

The same goes for hope, the hope that my mother tells me not to lose but it doesn't seem as simple as ironing on a transfer label with "if found, please return to my full name here>" on it like we used to. But lately I feel calm in the waiting and even more calm in the unknown, because you can manipulate the future and fashion anything you like. The details in the exterior, the particulars of your environment aren't anything if you aren't a dream from within - and you are already everything that you love. 

Love, A x

P.S. \\ I think you bring out the realest real inside of me, the child, the candour, the coy and the calm. The latter is something novel. Sometimes it's the stormy sea in calm but that seems to be what you surrender when you want to experience something a little more acute than ordinary. //

#82 || { IT TAKES AN OCEAN NOT TO BREAK }

LE DÉBUT.

Three decades later and there is a strange serenity in the air. Perhaps this is the calm before the storm, the ebb before the flow, the waning of the moon. I still bite my tongue in an attempt to quell the blood boiling within my veins when nothing is as perfect as I can imagine it. I still dare myself with the challenge to keep my secrets safe. I never used to believe in keeping secrets, and perhaps that still remains true, but sometimes the shame of my own recurring woes gets overwhelming and I can't bear the thought of being a burden. I am guilty of disguising my disgrace as drollness, perhaps it's often easier to make a joke of one's misfortune rather than confess that you care too much. When there was no way to confirm the acknowledgment of a transmission or trace the timestamps of your interactions - was that medieval love? It might be archaic but I wish I could elect a love stripped bare of read receipts, twin (plus some) ticks in between comebacks and beaucoup conversations giddy as if you are one too many red wines deep but you are not even.

In contrast, I foolishly urge myself towards an idyllic solitude, if such a thing exists. I move through moments of placing a lone wolf atop a pedestal and imagine myself as a superextraordinary superhuman unencumbered by mortal demands and desires. Sometimes all the memories, great and grand and small but significant, flood back in succession and I wish I never knew anybody or anyone ever so that nothing had to matter so much that it seemed like everything all at once.

And at the end of the day, I don't know what lesson I have learned here, other than the art of perseverance and patience in combination with the essence of empathy and sometimes even a touch of indifference. I wish some things didn't seem so important. Some sentiments seem like they're balanced at the end of the world, they're feelings so magnificent it feels like life or death.

LA FIN.

DEAR UNIVERSE,

RIGHT NOW, I FEEL LIKE A PRODUCT OF PERSUASION.  ONCE UPON A TIME I WAS THE SPIRIT BIRD IMPELLING THE LIFELESS TO LIVE BUT TODAY, IN THIS INSTANT, I FEEL VOID OF INSPIRATION. THE VAST DEPTH OF THE OCEAN, THE RIPPLE EFFECT, THE IMPACT OF MISJUDGEMENT, THE TRANSIENT CHAGRIN THAT IS SIMULTANEOUSLY INFINITE: SOMETIMES I WONDER HOW IMBALANCED I MAY HAVE BEEN AT SOME POINT IN THIS LIFE OR IN THE PAST, TO BE ON SUCH A CONSISTENT COURSE OF DESCENT. 

TO LIVE FOREVER IN THE WAITING, TO FOREVER HOLD ON TO INTANGIBLE HOPE AND TRUST THE TIMING OF LIFE, DO YOU PINKY SWEAR THAT ONE DAY IT'LL ALL BE WORTH IT? I DREAM OF A SINGLE MOMENT OF CLARITY, A BRIEF INTERMISSION WHEN THE SECOND-HAND STOPS AND I REALISE THAT THIS IS THE LIFE I ONCE PRAYED FOR, I DREAM OF A DREAM COME TRUE.

 THE SINGLE THING I AM CERTAIN OF IN THIS UNPREDICTABLE EXISTENCE, I HAVE BEEN BLESSED AS A RARA AVIS; A WONDER, A RARE BIRD, AN ANOMALY. FOR EVERY METAPHORICAL MINUTE IN THE GUTTER, FOR EVERY HEARTACHE OVER EVERY LOSS, EVEN WHEN I THINK I COULDN'T POSSIBLY COPE WITH ANOTHER:

 I AM THE SUNSHINE. 

DEAR UNIVERSE, FUCK YOU.

Yours sin-cereal-ly,

A.