I was at a standstill, unable to differentiate my happiness between dread and my feelings of euphoria for melancholy. My sense of stability had been compromised and the underlying fabric of my reality began to expose years of pulls and tears.
It is nights like these where I want to sleep for days on end. It is nights like these where I give myself up to an alternate authority and let my soul drift away. It is nights like these where I do not want my body, where I want someone else and to be who…
The cold had stunned me. It was the beginning of April, but the clouds held onto the winter chill. I watched the curtains dance in the wind, casting shadows around the bedroom. I lay on my back feeling the wind create goose pimples on my skin. It was six in the morning, and I was…
As we move through the tumultuous motions of obscurity, we brace for impact as we feel the lurch of time overpower our very will. Through careful thought and waiting, one cannot lose.
We embrace the world with black tar lungs, and pretend we don’t know any better. If it were not for mistakes, for death, and for heartbreak, who would we be? I don’t know.
What would happen If I let the wind guide me and I fell deep into the waters? An elderly man was walking along the pier, gazing out into the water. Surely he would save me. I pictured the water piercing my skin, the ice cold current digging thousands of tiny blades in my body.
The fact was this: people don’t change, they become stealthier at hiding their true selves. A cloak of decadent and distracting colors if you will.
I woke to the sound of mechanical beeping. Lights flashed around me as I opened my eyes. Slowly coming into focus, I noted the beige wall and glanced upwards toward the ceiling. I was laying in a hospital bed.
He had me, he had me hook line and sinker.
My mind races through old photographs, desolate sunsets, Asia to Amsterdam, and bodies shaking with every touch, and kiss, a new jolt to life brought forward by a mind-altering epiphany.
I often think about the man on the moon. Who is he? What did he do? Where does he go to get his coffee? The unanswered questions radiate through my mind penetrating every solitary crevice of my sanity.
We had found ourselves in a Pas de Deux, performing our steps side by side, unbothered by the tribulations around us. In another world, maybe we were just like these dancers. Two minds accompanied by two bodies, working together to make art. Met in an open wound, we stitched the protrusion closed.