To Aspire

"And those who were seen dancing were thought insane by those who could not hear the music."

[theyreclappingforyouhamis]

Silhouettes

Pale and withering, the youth that had once become her had now been drawn away further and further. Her beauty though, oh her beauty, what was once radiant, captivating, turned into a still silence that caught only the attentions of those close enough to hear it. No matter how weak she’d become, no matter the fragility that urged the tender emotions of loved ones, she held onto the little life still left in her. She held onto it like an infant involuntarily grasping the finger placed in its hand. She neither sought out hope nor expressed any. Perhaps the pain of deceiving herself would push the last strength she had left. She looked around slowly, mapping the silhouettes of her visitors standing in the light shining from the window. Fixing her senses she became aware of the tightness of the skin around her rib cage when she inhaled and exhaled. It frightened her. She began to breathe more rapidly through her nose, being greeted by the scent of fresh flowers that were next to her bed. She inhaled deeper to smell them; they gave off the familiar aroma of something full of strength, it was health. Her lungs held onto it with longing, with the ambitious embrace that it might become them again. They hadn’t had such resemblance for a long time, and nor had she. She watched as he approached her bedside. He sat down and gently looked at her. She watched him as he struggled to hide the thoughts from his facial expressions; he took to her hand to hide himself. He felt the weight of guilt come over him; though his body had life, his mind was consumed with death, while she, consumed by death, her mind was playing through the memories of life. “Two more minutes?” She asked him. Her eyes began to grow red; tears gently and lightly started streaking down her colorless cheeks, dripping down onto her chest, heaving deeply. “If only there were two more minutes.” She said staring into his frozen complexion. He was engulfed by sheer helplessness. The traces of her tears had stained her cheeks; her breath became longer, shallower. Though her eyes were open, she longer saw the people surrounding her, she no longer felt the warmth of his hand holding hers, her mind drew her within so that she may remember for one last time what life she had lived. What it felt like to live, what it was to be alive; and it was there that she truly felt the impact of the life that time had. He looked at her, opened his mouth to speak but only managed to whisper, to murmur desperation, “two more minutes, please.”

[theyreclappingforyouhamis]

In the lustrous overthrows of an evening walk they rendered each other indifferent and merely something for exploration; perhaps the longing for company, yet isolation at the same time, made far too great a confusion for their words to be shared. As they started off into the darkness of the street, ready to persist in conversations that were meant for the past, the cooing of an owl came after them from the top of a street light, calling them to stare back harshly into the blinding glare. It was as if this creature of the night were something of a symbol for all the days they hadn’t been open, hadn’t allowed the vulnerability that was so rightfully owed to let loose and be given. There was a cooing that followed them, as the night kept dim, as their words spread through the crispness of bated breath; there’s a cooing that follows them.

[theyreclappingforyouhamis]

Here in the sensitivity of my emotion, I have found myself deepened at the thought of comfort. For what could comfort the torments of an underlying truth if not only the weary misunderstanding of that reality?

[pidgeonsandpeeps]

[yournoirmajesty]

Lost in the patterns of youth and the ghost of your aches comes back to haunt you. And the forging of change makes no difference. Memories fly through the mask of your life shielding you from time.

Vertigo  Deafheaven Sunbather (2013)

[thequotejournals]

It’s so hard to forget pain, but it’s even harder to remember sweetness. We have no scar to show for happiness. We learn so little from peace.

Chuck Palahniuk, Diary (via thequotejournals)

[artsnquotes]

The creation of art is not fulfillment of a need but its the creation of a need. The world never needed Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony until he created it. Now we could not live without it.

Louis Kahn (via wnq-art)

[theyreclappingforyouhamis]

Naked

You know what it feels like, it feels like I’ve ripped my life apart, like how one would rip the clothes off their own body, leaving the shredded pieces on the ground to become lost. It feels like I’m naked, my bare skin exposed, shying away, hiding in and out of shadows while trying to pick up pieces of what once covered me. Somehow they never fit together the same way, they never make me feel clothed again, as if I’ll feel naked no matter what. Not naked in the sense of honest transparency or raw vulnerability. Naked like a child coming into the world, where they are yet to find a place except the one that they’re in, where they are yet to develop anything, but still have unimaginable prospects.

[theyreclappingforyouhamis]

Driven by religious belief, fueled by the self righteousness of those differences; driven by politics of one person who's above another, controlling others; driven by superiority and inferiority of colour, gender, nationality and all ends of human singularity. All amongst people who are bound to the anguish of their violent circumstances, stemming from a past that we might not have taken part in, one that we build evil and wisdom from simultaneously through the failings and victories that have occurred. And there still remains the unfulfilled desires of the individual that come from an ideal that cannot possibly be replicated into reality, and thus forming this conflict, this ongoing feud.

[mikeymcmichaelsphotos]

Vex Voir by Mikey McMichaels - DSC01148 - https://instagram.com/mikeymcmichaels

[the-hollow-quiet]

…and what if I’ve never wanted to be a star. What if I’m less likely to be seen That steady, that true, That others would plot their routes According to my glow. I was always more the Dance along the northern night sky— I shimmer, I wander, unchartable, I go.

RLKing (via the-hollow-quiet)

[wnq-writers]

Every person uncovers a part of you you never knew existed.

danceinmyminds-a-m-s (via wnq-writers)

[theyreclappingforyouhamis]

Gentle humming

They lay next to each other in the darkness under the stars of the early hours of the morning, the grass was wet and forgiving, and their intoxication made for a numb sadness. He put his arm under her head as she insisted on silence. She was too afraid that speaking would reveal the tears she was holding back. Their friendship had never been so raw, so honest, and yet she couldn’t strip herself of the pain she felt filling her heart. Time was passing with the loud noises of cars on the road nearby, with the faint humming of insects, and the lost concentration that had been consumed with the alcohol of the night. She sat up and took a heavy breath trying to gather her emotion. Touching her arm he asked her what was the matter; pulling her slightly to motion for her to lay back down he only triggered the vulnerability that allowed her to crumble. In an instant she gave way collapsing back with her face on his chest and gasping for air as she wept uncontrollably. He held her for moments, but kept trying to pry her to speak to him, confused and useless. They lay together, in the darkness and cold, yearning for the consciousness to converse. They felt the presence of each other’s bodies, only too drunk to realize everything else around them, and only too comfortable to move.

[wordsnquotes]

The most exhausting thing in life, I have discovered, is being insincere. That is why so much of social life is exhausting; one is wearing a mask.

Anne Morrow Lindberg, Girl from the Sea  (via wordsnquotes)

[malen-kuruf]

[simple-capacity-deactivated2018]

Despite how open, peaceful, and loving you attempt to be, people can only meet you as deeply as they have met themselves.

Matt Kahn;    via: (simple capacity)

[theyreclappingforyouhamis]

anima

There is a fear that a mind may never be explored, that a thought never grown between two people, that knowledge lost from withdrawn uncertainty, from content comfortabilty, and it is another kind of tragedy to be lost in a fear that denies the souls eruption of immaculate experience.