(Their) Spectral Palette

Life is the perfect palette, featuring endless shades and tones. These are some of their stories.

[their-spectral-palette]

[mofer-deactivated20180318]

[lomasdope]

A flower does not think of competing with the flower next to it. It just blooms.

(via lomasdope)

[their-spectral-palette]

Inner Chartreuse

“I got it.”

I barely offer an acknowledging grunt, not paying much mind to the overly abstract statement. After all, Alex is a rather impressionable individual. An unorthodox quality in our field of study, but nonetheless endearing from time to time. He often appears to be the most curious child, sporting spontaneous bursts of motivation and interest before completely changing his mind a few minutes later. The sight undeniably proves to be amusing though, and probably one of the many reasons I keep hanging around the guy. Dull moments are unknown to those in his company.

Once again, he pokes at my shoulder, attempting to steal my attention away from the lines of code displayed on my laptop screen. Nothing. I can see his brief burst of frustration out of the corner of my eye, but I decide against fueling his mini tantrum any further.

A regrettable decision, naturally.

Taking a deep breath, my colleague opts to whisper a series of attention-seeking phrases in my ear. An unnerving practice by itself, yeah, but the man decides to take it to the next level by employing a most excited yet annoying way of speech. I freeze, memories of playing Legend of Zelda eons ago flashing before my eyes. “Great,” I think. “Now I’m stuck with my own version of Navi.”

Deciding to listen to his “groundbreaking” anecdote of the day for the sake of stopping this torture and keeping my sanity levels up, I avert my sight from my trusty electronic pal. He immediately stops sharing his video-game fairy companion impression and I utter a silent message of gratitude to all the gods and entities above. For some reason, the unpleasant expression spread across my face appears to escape him as his grin just continues to grow larger. Navi meets… Cheshire Cat?

Cheshire Navi? Ugh.

I raise an eyebrow at his silence. “Yeah?”

“I got it, Rod! I got the job!” he exclaims, performing what I deem to be an ecstatic jump in his seat. I silently mouth his words back to him, not quite following this line of conversation. A job? Alex had applied and scored an internship? The thought feels… foreign to me. Don’t get me wrong, Alex is a talented programmer with a solid set of skills and a memorable personality. Objectively it shouldn’t be that big of a surprise. But actually proving one’s worth to the point of receiving an offer… that takes more than a couple of tries, in average. I myself haven’t managed to do so, and I like to think I’m one of the frontrunners on that end.

“…Wow, uh… that’s great, Alex. I didn’t know you had decided to apply this year.”

My best friend seems quite content with my half-hearted reply and proceeds to further explain the situation. Despite this being his first “internship interview season”, Alex had managed to do quite well with one of the companies. One of the big ones, in fact. Again, given the guy’s technical skills it shouldn’t be that surprising, but still… it all seems surreal to me, and not in that “so happy I can’t believe it” kind of way.

“So, you’re taking the job… right?” I dare to ask, though my heart sinks right after speaking the words. Why am I acting so upset about this? Alex deserves this. He’s talented enough and he worked hard for it. Now he’s reaping the benefits that are rightfully his. Still, despite so desperately attempting to conceal my feelings, I can’t help myself from wishing that was me and not him.

“I… don’t know, to be honest. That’s actually why I wanted to talk to you about this.” The guy proceeds to update me on his family’s ongoing economic troubles. Apparently, he didn’t think he’d land an internship this season and was actually planning to get a regular job during the summer to help them. The position, while opening the door to all sorts of professional opportunities, remains unpaid. He wouldn’t be able to help his family that way.

My expression hardens. He obviously seeks some sort of advice from me, yet I’m struggling to find the right thing to share with him. Frustration grows on one side, cursing fate for creating obstacles in the way to Alex’s dream. It also emerges elsewhere, though this time wishing they had chosen someone more decided than him… someone like me.

“I… I can’t tell you what to do.” I end up telling him, a soft sigh escaping my lips. “This is a great opportunity and I really think it would help you moving forward… but family’s still family. How long do you have until you have to make a final decision?”

“A couple of weeks, not that long.”

“It’s long enough to think about it… and maybe consult your family on the matter.” I conclude, turning back to my coding paradise. I can’t help feeling I didn’t sway him one way or another, but perhaps… perhaps that’s for the best. Besides, that big of a decision should be made by him alone, not his buddies.

“In any case, congrats. I’m honored to be in your company, Mr. Internship.” I jokingly offer, offering Alex a genuine smirk.

Inner conflict aside, my friend’s trademark sheepish grin ends up making my day. I may be a bit envious, but… I’d like to think I’m way prouder of his accomplishment.

[their-spectral-palette]

[alemina-blog]

[puritychild]

[their-spectral-palette]

When Blues and Oranges Collide

Graduation day. The designated finish line.

As she fixed her Oxford cap for the umpteenth time that evening, Alexa Salazar took the opportunity to glance around the room… or at least attempt to do so. The vast auditorium was packed, making it quite difficult to specifically look at anything or anyone. It was an uncommon sight, but hardly an unwelcome one. The fact that so many had come to congratulate her fellow classmates and herself filled her with warm sensations of gratitude and pride. They were a rather interesting group, sporting all sorts of personalities and interests. She was honestly glad they were all able to share this last moment of glory together.

Her class’s uniqueness, however, was easily surpassed by her own band of misfits’ shenanigans. Fond memories of both, adventures and misadventures flashed before her eyes. Alexa still couldn’t really understand how they all had ended up coming together, but she sure was glad it happened. Their company numbed blows life had thrown her way for those last four years. Their laughter sweetened the taste of struggles and effort found more often than not on her path. With them, exploring the world around her and actually living life didn’t sound as childish and idiotic. It was refreshing. Invigorating. Fun.

Basking in the glow of their journey together was doubtlessly nice, but it also pushed her to look forward once again. The future was filled with countless possibilities. Graduation meant leaving silly college hardships and problems behind and becoming actual active members of society. The thought brought a certain nervousness to the table, but it was exciting nonetheless. Still, Alexa couldn’t help venturing into the depths of her mind, those filled with thoughts long repressed and ignored.

Graduation also meant going forward without the people she had grown to love. The thought also made her feel uneasy, but this time there was no contrasting joy. There was only dread, fear and sadness.

The university rector’s familiar tone led her to instinctively face forward, but his words of encouragement and celebrations turned sour within her. Waves of worry long locked away hit her like bricks. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not then, not that day. Where had her positivity run off to? Was she supposed to feel like this? Was she supposed to feel as if she were losing her limbs, rendering her helpless against the world?

Alexa’s eyes wandered off, seeking their figures spread amongst the crowd of students. They felt like family… no, they were family. As such, she should have a little more faith in them. Assuming they’d easily cast her aside, abandon and leave her behind… wasn’t it a foolish, implausible thought?

Still her mind refused to yield to reason. This shade of loneliness wasn’t something she wished to face. Not now, not ever.

The multitude around her suddenly burst in celebration, their cheers echoing like a distant tune. As objects repetitively flew up out of the corner of her eye, the girl could only manage to stand. The Oxford cap found its way into her hand, her grip trembling yet clinging to it for dear life. Her reluctance to take part in the ritual could’ve seemed silly, but the conflict within her definitely felt real. Once she did it, thoughts were bound to become real.

And they did… in one of those bittersweet kinds of ways.

[their-spectral-palette]

[yumiaintyummyy]

Work in progress

[questingqueer]

[embrace positive coping mechanisms & replace self-destructive behaviors]

[their-spectral-palette]

[karlyjadec]

.

[their-spectral-palette]

Shades of Violet

Black. There’s nothing but black to be seen.

You find yourself gasping for air, control slipping from your carefully calculating grip. You’re forced to interrupt your daily routine in one of the most abrupt ways possible. It’s not the first time it happens, and it definitely won’t be the last, but the event never ceases to catch you off-guard. You keep your eyes shut. It’s a rather childish defense mechanism, meant to take unpleasant things and situations far behind those curtains of ebony. Of course, you’re aware of this but by now any sort of logical reasoning has fled and sought refuge in the very deep corners of your mind.

Through sheer force of will you manage to stand. Your world, albeit still dark, spins in a particularly unnerving way. You grasp at strands of reality, looking for something… no, anything to hold on to. Anything with enough sense of familiarity.

But it is all for naught. Your plan of action, carefully structured in therapy, inevitably begins to crumble. Powerlessness spreads like wildfire. You can’t afford to lose control, and yet… there’s nothing you can do about it. You end up being brought down to the ground, silently begging for sanctuary.

After a couple of moments, the cause grows distant and somewhat irrelevant. There’s a vast array of factors that could’ve triggered the episode and identifying them, while helpful to prevent any further replicas, would do little to help with your current predicament. But the effects… these just won’t budge. Your captors won’t allow any moment of respite from the torment they’ve unleashed. Desperation. Frustration. Doubt. Disdain. Fear. Anger. Shame. Oblivion. Shades of violet seem to hover around you, taking turns to run you over with the full brunt of their games. Sometimes some of them even feel generous enough to “share you” for a little while.

Unsurprisingly, those “little whiles” end up feeling like the longest.

Then you manage to take a big breath. The oxygen now filling your lungs acts like a shield, finally interrupting what could’ve an eternity and half of torture. You block Shame’s lashing and take another breath. You’ve been working hard to get better and have managed to stand up right after each fall. That’s something to be proud of. You dismiss Doubt’s tongue and halt your shivering. You’re someone worthy of being listened, someone worthy of being cared for. You’re someone worthy of being alive. You finally open your eyes, slightly recoiling at the uncertainty and blinding brightness before you. Once you’re able to clear Frustration’s fog, however, a warm sense of calm seems to blanket your entire being. You’re finally able to remember: there’s no need to rush and feel overwhelmed. You can also take one step at a time, and deal with parts instead of wholes.

With each breath taken you attempt to repel yet another of your bullies. Some of them, like Disdain and Desperation, are unable to put up much of a fight on their own. Vanquishing other demons allows you to set a solid footing and stand your ground before the rest. Oblivion, on the other hand, proves to be a much more stubborn entity. A true master of despair. That deep feeling of nothingness in your gut would’ve ended up swallowing you whole and sending you crashing down again if it weren’t standing on its own. You guess it’s probably proof of there still being work to be done on that matter.

Shades of green, yellow and white return after their brief period of exile. Their bright hues rejoice, recovering the emotional control you frantically tend to cling to for safety. Once again, all seems well. However, as you finally allow yourself to loosen your grip on your flexed legs, you can’t help noticing a familiar tone. Hidden deep within the peace and warmth of the light, a lone shade of violet remains. Pretty harmless on its own, incapable of staging a coup and driving the rest away. But just like before, the thought would continue feed and fester, spreading and multiplying until its collecting was strong enough to repeat the cycle.

Today, you had won a battle. Still, all was not well.