heart on wings

{Thursday, December 31, 2009}

30 December 2009: She lied, blatantly, about being out, un-alone. She had been walking, relentlessly, searching for a nice view, unpolluted, untainted. She’s easily weak lately, so she saw a nice high rock landing with a wide, wide view. Intruding into the privacy of a couple at the other end she didn’t care. This was how strangers treated each other, doing their own stuff in their own private bubble. Standing on the high rock landing, her view was only brooding sea, churning fierce waves and dark water. The solitary experience thrilled her, liberating her from her dangerous thoughts temporal. The hours unknowingly passed by, and so she sat by the sea like an impervious rock, rendered speechless by the sea waves splashing, forming the background music of her own music. She was thrilled by the strong winds, she wished they could take the bleakness out of her, and take her away. She would be going with the wind, gradually yet silently, but eventually gone. There would be peace in her mind, going in sync with the wind, waves, and huge sky. The sky was really big when she gazed up from there. And too was the ocean, so wide and expansive, she wondered if she could sink her thoughts in it. Yet, she could not escape noticing a dead fish floating from below, the dark and murky waters; the bleakness of it that parallels her own. If only someone would notice her, even the fishermen on the boat near didn’t give a damn about her. If only someone did, he would see a girl in black, an awkward figure on the high rock landing, gazing out into the infinitely boundless sea, rendered dumb, insensible, speechless. It wasn’t the norm for her to wear black, she hated the colour, it made her feel horrible. But it seemed perfect to wear the colour then.

Memories of places, of pieces of clothing, linger and haunt. Yet people say memories are bittersweet, but why? Is it because they know things that happened before, took place before, would not again? Or memories are poignant and beautiful, though they aren't everlasting? Maybe it is. Bittersweet because memories are poignant and beautiful, and they won't stay in our memory forever, they can’t stay in our memory forever; new experiences, time would erase them, gradually, unnoticeably, indefinitely. And what would happen to you?


"He panicked: How will I remember everything about Elspeth? Now he was full of her smells, her voice, the hesitation on the telephone before she said his name, the way she moved when he made love to her...At this moment he knew everything he would ever know of Elspeth, and he urgently needed to stop time so that nothing could escape. But it was too late: he should have stopped when she did; now he was running past her, losing her. She was already fading. I should write it all down...but nothing would be adequate. Nothing I can write would bring her back."

"As each night passed he found it more difficult to evoke Marijke precisely. He panicked and pinned up dozens of photographs of her all over the flat. Somehow this only made things worse. His actual memories began to be replaced by the images; his wife, a whole human being, was turning into a collection of dyes on small white rectangles of paper. Even the photographs were not as intensely colourful as they had once been, he could see that. Washing them didn't help. Marijke was bleaching out of his memory. The harder he tried to keep her the faster she seemed to vanish."

" "Ye-es. I don't know. He seems to have stopped- that is, he's doing all the things one does, but there's no heart in him. I don't think he's even working on his thesis. He 's just not getting over her." "

-Quotes from Her Fearful Symmetry


At times like these, I wished I had no heart to love, no, nothing. Nothing but blankness and peace.

Because I have to sleep over a silently-ravaged heart every night.

8:47 PM;

be with myself


cappucino on a rainy day,
snuggles in the warmth of blankets,
hot food in the arms of hunger,
huge umbrella of a stranger,
embraces in the rain,
smiles amidst frowns,
triumphs and singing of the heart

in center


Raindrops like candlewax
Drowning in a
Solid sculpture, you Burning and cold.


Baking skills
Yoga/Electone lessons


*HUGS* TOTAL! *HUGGIES* snuggles & cuddles


amelin =)
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anna =)
♥ trains


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Credits: momotea, larafairie.
Images: Foto decadent, deviantart.
Since 31st March'06
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