Archived

Lost the passion for this blog. Maybe someday it'll return. +ABOUT+

[wavebound-suggestions]

Yo I ‘ve been inactive here for a while so this probably won’t come as a shock, and it was fun when I was into it but I associate this blog with a time in my life and certain people that just... don’t make me happy. So I’m likely to delete soon. It’s been real guys 💙

[wildbabyx-deactivated20200623]

source link: pinterest.com

☾ please keep credits in reblog ☽

[matialonsorphoto]

[luvbey]

i just want to sit in front of the ocean for a little while

[the-sea-left]

Shattered; clay pottery shards sinking to depths below

[wavebound-suggestions]

You’ve wandered this shore for so long, you don’t even remember what you’re waiting for. What salvation did you expect to come rolling in from where the water meets the sky? There is only the infinite horizon. So you continue to watch. And wander. And watch. Your gaze is so absorbed by the shifting expanse of blue that don’t even notice when you stop leaving footprints. 

[wavebound-suggestions]

Your hands are shaking and scarred, but brick by heavy brick you press on. You weep every night for the ships you could not save, as if it was your duty to protect them. You’re wrong, of course. Nobody asked you to build a lighthouse. Nobody will even remember your name, lighthouse keeper. But if you were to give up, to acknowledge for even one moment that you are powerless, you would surely throw yourself into the sea. 

And so, brick by heavy brick, you press on.

[wavebound-suggestions]

Blistered palms, tear-stained skin. The fire was not enough. Vessels shatter on the rocks below and you want to scream, but your raw throat refuses. You watch the chaos unfold with weary eyes. It’s pointless, you know this, but you will try again tomorrow.

[deadman-suggestions]

don’t let it grow inside of you. don’t let your tears be the water for the thing that blooms in the pit of your stomach. don’t shine the negative light it needs. don’t let yourself believe you are the soil for which it can grow. there will always be weeds. please, just don’t let them take root.

[wavebound-suggestions]

You build the signal fire higher. You can save them from the treacherous shore, you know it. Your body and soul ache as you drag that salt-crusted wood across the dunes. It is not a labor of love, but one of fear- fear that more will be lost.

[wavebound-suggestions]

Again and again, they dash themselves to pieces against the rocks. Your heart breaks every time, but you cannot tear your eyes away. 

[wavebound-suggestions]

You throw caution to the wind, anxiety to the waves, and expectation to the sky.  You never were one for limits, were you?

[wavebound-suggestions]

Concept: The sand is warm, but the sun gentle. A cool breeze wafts by, smelling of salt and bonfires. Seagulls cackle in the distance, nearly drowned out by the murmuring waves.

We are counting ships as they come and go, making up stories about where they are headed. Our future is as uncertain as theirs.

[wavebound-suggestions]

Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, it doesn’t always work out like you want. Do not scar yourself clinging to something that hurts you. Like a burning boat, release it to the sea. Stay and watch for as long as you need, right up until its last light fades.

It hurts, it hurts for a while. So cry, mourn, and pound the water with your fists until you are satisfied. Do whatever you need. It feels like a loss, an emptiness that will never be filled, but the water remembers. It will always return an offering in kind.

[wavebound-suggestions]

I’m tidal locked to you.

[nocaptainmatt-deactivated201702]

[wavebound-suggestions]

The tide goes out, waters drawing away leaving countless mementos stranded on the shore, as it always does. 

It will return, crashing onto the sand in jubilation as if land and sea were separate for eons, not hours, as it always does. 

Still always, the shore waits with bated breath as its sand dries slowly. It listens to the calls of the birds, counting every sound, every flap of their wings while it waits for that precious meeting, however brief, to come again.