noise dept.
DEAR READER
Mike Driver

oozey mess
No title available
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
NASA

blake kathryn
styofa doing anything
No title available
Claire Keane

@theartofmadeline
RMH
Xuebing Du
Jules of Nature
Today's Document
Monterey Bay Aquarium

Janaina Medeiros
hello vonnie
ojovivo
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@boundbysilience
My eyes are open, but they do not see.
My vision is clear, visible only to me.
My darkness is near, no other shall know.
Miss me they may, or may not perhaps.
For todays life is lonely, leaving many thoughts to think.
My crying has slowed for this I know now. My darkness awaits me, silently ahead.
“She loves deeply, regardless of the love she gets in return, and it is both her greatest strength and her biggest weakness.”
— N.R. Hart
Why is it that we say 'make a difference'? It's like we're crafting something, building it with our own hands.
Maybe it's because, in a way, we are. Every choice we make, every interaction, it's all part of this grand art project of life.
Sometimes, it feels like we're just splattering paint hoping something beautiful will emerge from the chaos.
But even in the most abstract of paintings, there's meaning and purpose. It's all in how you choose to see it.
Do you ever regret any of the strokes?
I have, but regrets are just layers of paint we don't like. They add depth, character.
But what if we painted over the parts we don't like?
Then we'd lose the story beneath. Sometimes, the most beautiful art is the one that shows its history, its flaws, its journey.
I am happy with the strokes you added to my painting.
Each day is a new beginning. Each glance is a chance to smile. Each thought is a chance to be grateful. Each breath is a gift.
Lost. Lost is just a word. Does anyone really truly comprehend its meaning? The power it holds when one says they are lost? No one knows….until they have lost.
Waiting in the mist
Release
How do you fill that empty space, that longing ache, that haunting heaviness that won’t leave your heart. You miss the touch, the smell, the feel of his skin. For all the endless nights spent lying alone, she cry’s for just one touch…one touch.
Patiently waiting; the door is open.
Find me there, under the satin sky…
Her eyes closed, all she sees is darkness; that familiar darkness. The darkness that leaves an empty space in her chest waiting to be filled. Her knees settled on the cool hard floor, as she silently kneels with her head lowered. “One day little girl”, she repeats, “one day.”
Sometimes you just have to dance in the rain