More than anything I just want to be free.
Free me
Free from pain
Free from scars
Free to explore
Free to conquer
Free to love
Free to fail
Free to forgive
Free to do nothing and just be for a minute
Free not to feel alone
Free to be with someone and feel a oneness
Free to live
Free to be
Sept. 25th, 2019
I sit here writing, I’m not sure why…
The beauty of language.
Ah, it just came to me.
The very idea that lacing sentences together could be a craft. I love my life… oh, that’s a bit off-topic. But yes, back to language. Language is a positively wonderful thing because it allows us to express what’s going on inside our heads. Also, language largely comprises the make-up of our day-in, day-out thinking. Just imagine if we didn’t have it. But just like someone can be a master craftsman with words, so can someone speak to you through music. We’ve all heard the phrase “this is speaking to me.” I think this can be true in the metaphysical sense.
Just imagine. I’m in my room, the atmosphere is positively romantic and I’m listening to smooth jazz. The music speaks to the environment and by extension, my radiant soul.
In other words, it “speaks to me.” Everything can be said without so much as a word. This is also why others have described silence as deafening. Silence is almost like an entity that can devour you and the room whole. If you are resistant to it, it will cause a great deal of pain because silence will devour you anyway. This is why a lot of people cry when they are finally alone with no distractions.
In today’s world, everyone is trying to avoid solace/silence/isolation. You might just discover that your own company is much more pleasurable than that of others if you sit with no distractions for a bit and just take in the moment.
It’s a fun time indeed.
Nothing like it.
So good to see you again.
Writing prompt #1 “Eye Contact”
Samantha remained frozen, deadlocked in the middle of Ethan’s view. She looked like a deer in headlights. Her heart beat rapidly.
“E…than,” she murmured.
Ethan stared back at her, similarly. His eyes were wide and his heart also beat rapidly.
“Sa…mantha,” he mouthed silently.
The two walked toward each other without breaking eye contact. Not even for a second. Once they were within an arm’s distance they shook hands. Still not breaking eye contact.
“You look even better in person,” Samantha said.
“You too,” Ethan said examining her from head to toe.
Ethan spun around and signaled towards the table adjacent to them.
“Should we sit?”
“Sure,” Samantha said.
The two sat down still looking into each others’ eyes.
“I can say,” Ethan started. “Looking at your eyes for this long, they really are beautiful.”
“Thanks,” Samantha said. “I can say your eyes are the prettiest brown eyes I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”
The two of them chuckled. Ethan explained how he had never received a compliment on his eyes like that and he thought them to be pretty normal.
“That’s the first time we’ve broken eye contact,” Samantha joked.
“How do you feel in this moment?” He asked her, all smiles.
“Feel like this has been the best decision I’ve made all year.”
Ethan perked up at the sound of that and wore a huge smile on his face.
“I think this could work out,” he said.
“I think so too,” she said.
I don’t know the first thing about love
But I do know that I want to hold you so close
To feel your warmth pressed up against my body
To feel your breath, your heartbeat. I want to feel your presence
Us being here. How delicate it is. How mysterious it is. Just us holding each other tight.
I want to shield you from any and all harm and you’ll be mine. Mine to protect and to love and to cherish.
Your smile warms my heart, your laugh brightens my mood. When you are happy I’m joyful and when you are sorrowful I will be the shoulder for you to lay your head on
But still you do not love me.
No, you don’t even care about me
You couldn’t be more impervious to my existence
Don’t you understand that I’m nothing without you?
Thinking of you slipping away more and more, moment by moment, tightens my chest and fills me with grief
Can’t you see that I’m the one for you?
Can’t you see that I’m the only one who will make you happy?
You can try to find someone else but they won’t be half the lover I can be
Why don’t you give me a chance, please?
I’m not enough for you and that fills my eyes with tears and I below out in agony
You’re tormenting me
You’re so cruel
But I’m willing to be tormented if it means I can continue loving you.
The young man traversed the center of the city at night without stalling looking for his would be lover. They said they would be there but weren’t at the spot they said they would be. He had this worried expression on his face and he carried a single rose in his right hand.
The rose was wilting by the minute for every minute that passed without him entrusting the rose to his beloved.
I have to find her, he thought.
He texted her on his mobile phone. Where are you? He wondered if maybe she was ghosting him.
He gauged the many couples hand in hand and thought about how lonely he felt without her around. The city lights were almost like a spotlight on him and this was his performance. Though no one really wondered why he carried the rose with such haste.
Upon entering a bar he saw a woman with brown hair much like his loved one. He maneuvered through the large crowd to get to her and he set his hand on her shoulder. She turned around with a jolt.
It wasn’t her.
“Sorry.”
The woman went back to conversing with her friends. At this point he’s distraught. He circles the floor of the bar when some girls at a table notice him.
“Are you looking for someone?” One of them asks.
“I am. I’m looking for a girl with brown hair, pale skin, she’s really short. Have you seen her around here?”
They all shook their heads.
“Do you want a lollipop?” The same girl asked.
The man thought they were being nice in offering him a treat.
“Sure,” he said.
“One dollar,” the girl said.
The young man was bewildered. It seems they were having a birthday party but were selling would-be party favors at a price. He turned them down and went about his business.
He stepped outside of the bar and surveyed the passerby’s and then looked up at the dark night sky. There weren’t many stars. It was just empty blackness. Which summed up his night pretty well.
He trotted some more, occasionally resting on park benches. He held the rose in his hand and decided it was time to go home. She wouldn’t show. He threw the rose in the trash. It was one of the most painful things he had ever done.
As he was walking a man walked next to him at about the same pace.
“Man I’ve walked all this city looking for this place and I still don’t know where it’s at, man.”
The young man turned to him.
“I understand, I’ve been looking all over for this girl. She said she’d be here and never showed.”
“Sorry to hear that, man,” the man said.
At that point the young man looked up at the roof of the cathedral and a flock of birds took flight in a V-pattern. This is pain, he thought.
Artistic Apathy 