The beach was shimmering with the tranquil rays of the Sun...I felt a serene calmness take over me. I missed him...I was near water. A common place where we love to be. I walked while the fragile stream of rain swept pass my face enveloping itself in the cool wind. My head held high...but not in pride. I looked up at the Sun that was obscure behind the clouds. I remembered the times we had been together. I could smell the sea. I could hear my heart whisper.The sea shell reminded me of the time we used to collected those intricate masterpieces of nature's art in small plastic bags. And then I hoped, just hoped...What if he was here? We would be walking hand in hand and he would have that face on his face(that's totally him.) and I would understand his every expression. He admires my originality, my truthfulness and I love his heart. He's perfect and I wish he was here. Oh he is ...right here with me...In my heart...wait that heart doesn't belong to me. Now, it belongs to him.
People living in cubicle. People living in deserts. People living in storming snow. They are all people trying to make a place for themselves in this world which we call beautiful. People need to know who they are and what they are here for. Time does not stop for anyone. People need to figure out things before it's too late.
There is a huge amount of feelings that follow me wherever i go, you push them down y'know? you try really hard to keep everything squashed together that it all becomes too tightly packed, like a suitcase before that dream holiday.
I'm carrying around a really heavy suitcase i think, i'm trundling on through the airport and its like those days where everything goes wrong and you just get really impatient. My passport is at the bottom of my bag so i have to take everything out to try and get it and then once i get it out i realise that my headphones are also somewhere in the bottom of my bag, this cycle continues.
You get to security and your shoes have to come off along with your belt and any electronics you have so you comply because you're not insane and you go through and they have to check your bag for some reason, then you panic because you remember that you left a joint in there last week and there might be some residue. It was fine, luckily.
You then realise that even though you followed through with all the procedures that you're still carrying your suitcase. nobody took it off and you never had to check it in, you dont know why you forgot.
Its your suitcase, its with you, you cant sit down on the plane because your suitcase is in your seat, your standing, people are falling over.
You cant do anything because of your suitcase.
The candlelight danced around in the darkness, licking the objects and slowly caressing the walls. As the oven timer slowly ticked their seemed to be another sound creeping out, heavy and large.
I'm sitting alone but now i dont think i am, i think somebody is coming close and its presence doesnt feel friendly, something is definitely not right here.
A gust of wind argues with the gate outside and the slow raindrops drop heavily on the leaves, i can hear the footsteps again.
Whatever is out there wants something i have, my breath stops short in my chest and i wait, urging my ears to hear more than they should.
The oven keeps on ticking and the food stirs amongst the heat. My skin is working along side it and the temperature begins to accelerate.
Footsteps come closer and the rain still bashes and the toilet flushes and the oven ticks on without me.
We are different. The ground of normal that we carefully constructed in our lives is different. I am not sure if this is a bad thing or not. I find how I see us is different. I have to stand taller and alone at times that I didn't. I think sometimes we grow to rely on other people so much that we forget the tune of our own internal music. I finally can hear the notes of me outside of us without sadness. I know this occurred out of circumstance but it is our new reality. I hope and pray that I don't forget the dance of us in finding the song of me.