Siren of The South

Mostly me singing, harmonizing, sometimes other things 🌊😍😇🤑🤑

[chasetheia]

The crystal ball

I wonder at the glass ball before me

And the more I wander the deeper my mind dives into a cool pool of clear glass

Inside curved reflections in my eyes and soul inside the glass ball I wonder in him ,across from me

Nameless sleight. Bright liquid light

I search for a word I look for a meaning a definition, good or bad? Enough? is it love?? True love? The best love? The right love?

I try math on the ocean in me

words are poor tools. all questions lost when I look into the glass ball

Forever

And all is experience and none is words although i have many: i can describe its behavior- the reflections in great detail, i can tell you the form of the sphere.

how and when and why , to the umpteenth

But in- finite moments.

ask me to explain the singular connection between the ball and me

All i can say for sure

“It keeps happening” and it feels good

[chasetheia]

I’m in love with these

[chasetheia]

Literally love this

[chasetheia]

[chasetheia]

Singing along

[chasetheia]

Lawyers are a functional, prosaic, if not artless, group of speakers. These are not Shakespearians, not literati, and not even something more beautiful and less pretentious than that. They use words, but they use them like steel support beams in a concrete building . Not like paint on a canvas.

Often, this ugly magic uses words that aren’t even words at all. That could be a type of aesthetic, except one feels, at times, a cold space where the love of language should lie. It’s an unloving hand, crafting cruel black and white worlds, with an unwilling paint brush.

Even so, if I can learn this ugly magic, smear my face in the mud of it, maybe I can pass unseen. Or even use it to make something beautiful.

Maybe I can bring them back to life, these other ways, in other worlds, made of other words. For I know in my heart, that words all yearn to be beautiful, and colorful, and alive.

Or maybe I’m just a canary in the mines, dreaming of sunlight. Only time will tell, but to dream, I think is a good thing .

[chasetheia]

🌊 She sells seashells by the seashore 🌊

[chasetheia]

I like rain

I like shelter

I like walls

Until they hold me in

I like breathing

Fresh oxygen

I like green

I like sin

We left the garden and killed the trees

We left the forest and filled our heads with noise

Cant you see

We miss the trees and we miss the breeze

Don’t you hear your child’s heart scream

Every time you pass a sky scraper, and it has no leaves

[chasetheia]

Welcome to my world

[chasetheia]

[chasetheia]