🕸️
I’ve spent the whole morning looking for a lost key that would open all the doors. It was like waking up small cuts in the throat, like searching for the past and remembering the pain. Another thing crossed off the list, but was it worth coming back home? Will it help to bang your head against the doors?
What we do is shameful, it’s shameful to neglect what we have around
Walking back home, I unplugged myself and looked up at the sky. It was 8:34 PM and there were a few stars. I realized the trap - dispersion. I don’t know how long it’s been since I last looked up at the sky - usually, we gaze blankly down, the deepest point of a screen.
Jan 29, 2025
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i used to chase rainbows
walk a few blocks maybe
then turn around cause i always knew it was fruitless
now i do the same for sunsets
try to stay up for sunrises
i never succeeded but i always look back
i keep swinging and dreaming of the sun rise i never saw
all i have is the orange horizon that never finishes its downfall
i close my eyes and listen to the cicadas
i take a deep breath and ask god to change
but i open my eyes and the sun isn't set
hours after it was supposed to
my legs are tired but i wish to swing
my head hurts but i can breath
the car lights blind me and i hope they don't think of me
the bright fluorescent lights highlight my growing roots
not blonde but not entirely brown
dull and indecisive
so the next day, I walked further, I tried to see the sun for a better angle since I once again missed the rise
I seem to have walked quite too far, so the sky was blank, covered by trees and high skylines so I go back and turn around feeling the cars go by me almost hitting me each time, and I immediately regret that I didn't walk even further to see what was beyond the bend, maybe the trees would clear away and i’d finally see the set from a perfect angle
I hope one day I'd find myself back to a tall mountain Ridge where I could see the fall and theoretically the rise all by myself and nothing else in mind
but i didnt take advantage when i did have that perfect spot
Mar 30, 2025
🌅
In the morning, you’re dazed due to the impact of the soft sounds of the river. Just like a tune designed just for this moment, noises enter your ear and remain constant. It is your choice to walk away from it as when you start taking a few steps towards ‘escape’, the streams will not be able to reach you anymore.
Just stare at it and enjoy the peace for a minute. Enjoy the gentle warmth radiated from the big star above you, embrace the tickling breeze that kindly kisses your cheeks. As if it were a group of fairies, the luminous forms of glitter huddle together then fall apart by the motions of gravity. Against or willing, they carry out their moments independently and flow with time.
You close your eyes and for a second, life feels wonderful. It feels like you are living in its peak and there is no route for returning back into gloom. Take a few breaths in, decide to let loose and fall on your back without damage. Realize that it would be best for you to keep it sealed for a while and fall asleep.
When you finally wake up from the accidental spending of a few hours, your receptors do not detect much light from the scenery now. The Sun also decided to rest and gifted the Moon, introducing a variation to the glint.
Now, you feel calmer than ever. Nothing really matters, it’s only you and the dark, present in this living moment. The river still giggles, but you can’t really see its smiles anymore; the only motion you detect from it are the parts that rely on the Moon. After-all, the Moon doesn’t emit light by itself and is also dependent on the Sun’s attitude. However, the circle wouldn’t have been drawn and presented if it wasn’t for its existence so who are we to judge?
Jan 29, 2025
You open your eyes only to realize they’re still closed beneath the soft weight of the mask which you wear to block out the sun as it threatens to seep into the dream that you’re still unsure is a dream at all and not the interior of a crystalline cave you swear you’ve been to before. And the cave is not a cave at all but a vague opening in what you can only assume is a solid structure of hardened salt based on the way it pulls at your skin as it dries and stings the tiny fissures you didn’t even know that you had until now. Against the quiet lapping of nearly-still water at your feet and the echoing replies of the cave walls that surround you, you hear a voice that is not a voice at all but an awareness of your own thoughts (on the wind whose source is yet unknown to you, that is not a wind at all but the blood rushing past your eardrum) and it is telling you—begging you—not to look back
Mar 28, 2025
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