If I dare to dream, they come in waves. Crashing at the surface, moments before my eyes flutter open to the reality I find myself in. Once closed to the outside imaginings and distractions, I find myself at a gateway that leads down paths overlapping paths into an oblivion I cannot describe lest I carry on forever. Symbolisms of gore and fear cloud my consciousness and the air shifts. I hit my knees. Digging through like, fingers clawing at wet sand, I find pools of realization surfacing. I analyze these moments in my waking state and journal accordingly. This jigsaw of contorted and jagged pieces are too sharp to touch and yet, they beg for the sensation to feel alive; to grow from the mud in which the answers lie. Only when my soul is brave enough to approach their threatening glimmer and face the reflection that appears when the waters become still but, to hold ground in this tempest is more than a daunting task. And what do I say when the shadow stares back? When I realize I stand in pure nakedness before my own madness and shadows of my own crypt tower over me; what do I do? Stand present? Embrace the awareness of my vulnerability and allow the fears to crash over me and see what awaits on the other side of that tidal wave? Does the storm ever dissipate once unleashed? Finding balance in between stillness and chaos is a talent that I’m forever in search of with a fog in my eyes so thick I can taste defeat. And yet, I keep blindly moving forward. Towards a cliff or toward the sun?
Sometimes, I stay in place and wait for the fog to rise, and I notice...I observe, that from all of that weather and destruction, behold! A lotus growing from the very muds of the most broken parts of my mind. Hopeful; also, delicate & fleeting.
germansingergirl
yousharknotpass
turnnoffyourmind
prguitarman
andulkaphoto
ellievsbear