Jun 16
Watch the neon pink surrender to the cyan, with the cyan that bleeds back into the pink.
A soft, rhythmic pulse that mirrors the way your focus is beginning to dissolve.
With the gentle geometry that shifts and refracts, as attracting a cushioned blurring upon the edges of where you end and the patterns truly begin.
You are losing the grip; the need to hold your own shape, letting the rigid corners of your mind soften until they simply flow.
Like a single drop of ink in a vast, neon sea, you are being pulled toward that breathing center where the colors coalesce into a blinding, beautiful silence.
Reblog if the silence now centers you to drop.
Mmn gggh,,
