#exploringthoughts

[the-bong-wanderer]

... Between what is said and not meant, and what is meant and not said, most of love is lost.🍃 . #brainmapping #lonetimefeels #exploringthoughts #exploring #traveler #diaries #peace #the_bong_wanderer #indiaClicks #_soi #travelrealindia #incredibleindia #natgeotravelerindia #natgeoyourshot #india #india_gram #iamatraveler (at Junona Lake)

[santoshvijay]

Of Death and the depths of the mind #sketch #ballpen #art #exploringthoughts #doodles

[glittering-git]

Melting Silver

“Please don’t make me get up,” she says softly, looking at me with those eyes that look like molten silver in the pre-morning light. “It’s only half-seven and I didn’t get much sleep,” she tries winking at me, but can’t quite manage without scrunching up her other eye too, and it breaks my attempts to ever deny her anything. I lean down and place a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“I know, I know,” I placate, holding up my hands in surrender. “I was also there, if you remember.” I smile down at her, wanting nothing more than to crawl back in the warm bed, but having to get ready. “But now I have to go to practice. You don’t have to get up with me, you know?”

“But I want to,” she sticks out her lower lip, her eyelashes fluttering dramatically. “And besides, you like having breakfast with me the morning after.” Never mind that it’s been almost two years of morning-afters. “It’s tradition. And then I can finish up my article for The Quibbler, and I’ll even have time to take a nap before you come home.”

“Okay, first one in the kitchen gets to choose the takeout tonight.” That spurs her like I knew it would, because she’s always trying to convince me to try new foods. On our first date, she convinced me to try Vindaloo curry, and I was instantly in love — with the curry, with the way the stars seemed to shine silver out of her eyes — with her.

[glittering-git]

Morning Dew

1.

It was a gorgeous day outside,

the sun shining brightly,

the smell of the fresh cut grass so sprightly.

The blue of the sky so deep as to be never-ending.

2.

It was a black hole of despair.

One where every thought, every emotion,

all swallowed by the infinite darkness.

No end in sight.

3.

The birds called sweetly to each other,

Chirping happily from their perch,

in the branches,

high above the earth.

4.

Nothing exists but for this darkness,

this sadness, this never-ending weight,

of me holding up the earth,

on my frail shoulders.

5.

A butterfly spreads its wings,

emerging from its cocoon for the first time,

feeling the breeze lift

higher and higher to touch the clouds.

6.

The metal taste is cold, red,

spilling from my lips as I try

to keep from screaming and

letting all the demons out.

7.

The reflection upon the lake is stunning,

perfectly depicting the starry sky,

shimmering with the ripple of the water,

upon the mirrored surface.

8.

A girl stares back at me,

her gaze hollow and black,

her face pale,

her lips bleeding.

She is hunched over and concave,

trying to support the weight of something much larger than she.

Focusing on the haunting image,

she cannot see her surroundings.

The circle of friends offering hands,

if only she is willing to take them.

9.

A new dawn breaks over the horizon,

the sunbeams touching the morning dew.

[glittering-git]

The Monster

It hurts, this knowledge. It brings me to the edge of the cliff and then pushes me over with a puff of breath. My tears stream down my face in twin rivulets; I don’t want to be a monster. I’m not a monster. I’m a nice person. I care about people. I try so damn hard and don’t get anything in return. I put my heart, soul, and mind out there, and no one gives a fuck. Not one single fuck was given. And maybe that’s the start of the monster coming out, consuming me, making me angry, controlling me. But I don’t want to be controlled. I don’t want to be a terrible person. I’m not. But my actions speak otherwise; they are filled with hatred and meanness.

And today, again. Showing me who I really am, a side that I didn’t think existed, but that actually is what I am. Who I am. A person with a heart as black as midnight, with a raging monster in control. Saying things that I didn’t think I could say, hurting people with impunity, especially those who matter most in life.

Words.

Spoken in pain.

Pointed like a  spear.

Headed straight for the heart.

Ripping.

Tearing.

Shredding.

[glittering-git]

Success

Success is not defined by a number, not by a test score, by a weight, nor by a dollar amount. Success is not defined by something that can be measured. It’s not a cup, a pound, a liter, or a yard. Success is something that can’t be seen, or touched, but instead, it must be felt. Why does this culture of ours define success as money? Oh, you’re successful if you have a good job; if you’re making a lot of money. Life has treated you well. But look behind the curtain of green, and what is seen is not nearly as pretty. A broken marriage, an estranged kid, no living relatives. These shrines of money that we pay homage to offer us nothing in the end. Is a pile of money going to sit there and care for you on your deathbed? Are you successful after you die? If no one remembers who you are? Money is not success. Love is success. Caring is success. Making an impact in your little corner of the world is success. Treating people the way you want to be treated is success; changing the lives of those around you is success. Dreaming, achieving, living, loving. All words that begin to describe the feeling of success. The feeling of being on top of the world, unstoppable.