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1 days ago
A bit of a twin soul you are. In the peculiar way i carry your invisible air around my hands when I swirl them gently into beautiful patterns. An air, an aura so light i may sometimes forget it is there, as it disappears silently behind the cracked black outline of days. The footsteps faithfully trace and create its shadowy ink. Whilst leaving every location, i ask myself again and again, if i have left something behind. You whisper in my ear. “It’s me. You’ve left me.” I lose your whispers in a frenzy of busy calm; in a world of white noise and dazzles. So strange then, that i should feel the echo of those whispers on my skin. Odd that when faced with the question of what is missing, that i should feel strangely empty. Your soul dances close to mine with brushes in your heels. Who knows when the artful painting will be realized? Until then, i exist in half.
2 days ago
I’ve been gone for a while now so i’d thought i’d give a general update. I’m sitting here writing this with a huge bandage around my toe, and it is hurting like hell. So just as i expel emotional pain through my writing, i’m going to attempt the same with physical pain (does heartache count as physical or emotional pain? Discuss.) and hope that distracts me away from the throbbing pain of my toe. It’s become increasingly clear to me over the past few weeks that what i need to be doing is carrying a small notepad and pen with me. Throughout the day i see something interesting, or i think of something thought-provoking, random poetry lines or perhaps the next sentence in my story. I almost feel sometimes that i need that notepad with me once my mind starts getting depressed and there’s nobody around me to talk to (or to hug). These are all things i feel a small notepad and pen can help with. It’s different from carrying a huge A4 pad with you because things like that can fit in your ...
15 days ago
Just read this genius. --- “The phrase and the day and the scene harmonized in a chord. Words. Was it their colours? He allowed them to glow and fade, hue after hue: sunrise gold, the russet and green of apple orchards, azure of waves, the grey-fringed fleece of clouds. No, it was not their colours: it was the poise and balance of the period itself. Did he then love the rhythmic rise and fall of words better than their associations of legend and colour? Or was it that, being as weak of sight as he was shy of mind, he drew less pleasure from the reflection of the glowing sensible world through the prism of a language many-coloured and richly storied than from the contemplation of an inner world of individual emotions mirrored perfectly in a lucid supple periodic prose?” From The Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce.
16 days ago
Tonight i feel with such an burning intensity, the desire to go to university. I’ve been spending the entire night writing my application and doing research on the various institutions i’ve applied for, including interviews with students in their first years of English and my heart just suddenly bumps up the rate. It’s like adrenaline coarsing through my veins…. I feel all of a sudden very powerful as if i am capable of topping the world over with my pinkie finger. All of a sudden i feel like i can do it. I can do it. I can get there if i try hard enough. The tempting allure of possibilities lending and extending their hands to give you a glimpse of a future that will dare to materialize once you expend the neccessary efforts. What is this feeling i feel…? I’m too jumpy and excited right now. How will i ever get enough sleep for tommorow? Someone pack my suitcase right now, i want to leave for the campus in time for next morning’s lecture.
21 days ago
Been feeling weird lately. Can’t really put it into words, so i will express it by this link. It’s only 3 and half minutes, which is hardly much. Beautiful.
