So, days have been such a drag— endlessly droning on and on, never ending, never changing. It was as if day and night were one, and time itself was a nonexistent idea; the wind was the only thing that was constant, the only aspect that kept me going from where I once was. It carried me from place to place, carrying my body in the rift of a breeze, simply taking to the direction it wanted me to— I didn't fight it. It felt like a high, it came and go, it sizzled and cracked in my brain, but left when my mind was in the verge of breaking down in a melted slob of torn memories and half-eaten lies. It was entangled in the fringes of my blurry haystack of reason, ceasing to exist when noticed, breaking apart when touched, vanishing into nothing when wanted— it was tangible, yet yielded something akin to a ghost; it was the thrill of a chilly Winter's night, or the shivers on your back if a song was too intimate to even handle, making you think of him and the things that have transpired back in the day.
So, days have been such a burden, like a weight over your shoulders, threatening to reel you back down to the cold, dark ground. The winds have been seizing the land, singing great songs of the olden times, of how things were rough back then, of how raw and animalistic the ancient times were. Horrific and wondrous, it was— the atmosphere felt electric, a lightning on my veins, and I was the only one who felt the surging pain of the white daggers above; it wrapped around my head, it clapped thunders in my ears— they were a choir that sung melodies of the faint and nearly-dead. The world was ending beneath me, and beginning anew above— I didn't know what to believe, didn't know where to go, so I stood still. In the stillness of time, in the steadiness of longing; I was tiptoeing in the edge of the world's grandest conspiracy, and I was there, yearning for a response of truth. I was there in the clouds, in the stars, having a tête-à-tête in the border between what was supposed to be and what was. Troubled with the explosions of heartfelt desire and wanting, I steer away from broken ground, finding myself with a jar of sands of what is known to be the cleanest of time went by. I was absconded with, taken my heart with force, pummeled to the last drop of blood, but that doesn't mean I'll give up. No, I'll reclaim what was once mine, because it is mine, and it will forever be mine. What's yours will be in your every will until your last breath, and that's enough reason to take back what was rightfully yours. The world may seem arrogant for being a thief, but that's a part of life— and well, the world teaches you to be stronger, and that's life.
So, days have been such a downer, looking a bit hazy in the fog of a new morning's wake. You wipe the sand in your eyes, feeling time bleed out your eyelashes, and rewind as if you were never asleep at all. Routine, that's whay they say. It never ends. On and on, and on, and on— forget the past, ignore it. Don't dwell on it. Focus on what's happening, on what's troubling you, because right now is important— right now, you're alive. You're alive more than ever, and that's to die for. The clouds are painting you a picture and the stars at night are whispering stories only for you to know— don't waste it, being down once in a while is a part of your story, but don't let it shackle you whole.
//k.u.
***
SO SORRY FOR BEING INACTIVE! Life in the university has been stressing, yet challenging and fun in ways people wouldn't even comprehend! It's been hell of a crazy year for me! I wish it was for you, too, since 2016 has passed.
HAPPY NEW YEAR AND MERRY CHRISTMAS! I hope to publish more in the future! I know that I've been saying this a lot— that I've been writing another book bla bla bla, but I'm honestly running out of creative ideas. BUT, there is one I've thought about— an idea that sprouted in the stroke of midnight. And I'm raving about this ever since. Let's hope that it'll reach its peak and grow! Don't die on me, brain. Don't die.