I feel within myself the utmost desire, an unquenchable thirst for wonder. How deeply the things unknown and unseen captivate my imagination.
It’s almost like my home is elsewhere, and here, I’m just a traveler. And on my journey I cannot help but think that there is so much more beyond mere flesh and bones, beyond this big blue floating dot we call home.
“That, my dear, entirely depends on where your journey takes you.”
“Then I must make sure I get this journey right…”
“It’s not about getting it right, it’s about the exact opposite: realizing you will never get it right on your own, and letting the beauty of that reality set you free. It’s about learning to stop looking at yourself and learning to look up.”
Like a little kid afraid of the dark, you find yourself again and again. Now you are older and the monsters are different each time. They change. They are bigger now. They look like failure, worry, doubt and insecurity.
So just like the little kid you were, you leave the door open just enough for a beam of light to make it through; just a crack. Just enough so that you can hear papa’s voice whispering: “everything is going to be ok.”
Here’s the thing about anxiety: you learn to cope. It becomes bareable. But no one asks about the in-betweens, about the mortifying gray areas, the moments in which time stands still and you are staring your broken pieces in the face. The moments you pull yourself back up, never really knowing how you managed to do so on your own yet again. The exhausting, excruciating, gray areas. You are stronger after each battle. But always carry the fear of the next. Still, you cling to hope, the only thing that pushes you to seek the light in the midst of darkness.
And you wonder where she learnt,
That beauty lies upon your skin,
So that she thinks it doesn’t cover everything she holds within,
It breaks your heart to know her mirror,
Is how she estimates her worth,
And not the lives she’s made much better,
By simply being on this earth.
So, we see all the that man has created, and it is art for sure, and it is much appreciated and treasured by the people. But how much art are you, since you have mind, body and soul. You are a creator yourself, you are a source of hope, a source of life, a source of love. But at the same time you are the masterpiece, the creation, the muse. Art is merely the projection of you.
— Rachel | Hela
Page generated in 0.296 seconds. Stats plugin by www.blog.ca