writing

Soft and quiet. Water, ocean, the sound of flow, the sound of thoughts.

I’ve experienced the world. Like a dramatic harmony. The deep blue and black sounds with the light of strings, but yet, still harmony. The kind you focus on and only then does it sound beautiful and not like a mistake of the musician.

Blink, I’m back by the water. I’m present. Air, whispers, it lets me know I’m there, that very second I’m there.

I’ve experienced the world. The family I was given, the families I made, the members of those which left. Weight. I feel it. People leave. People come too, but they also leave.

Blink, air. I’m breathing, it’s blowing. Present. This, I’m currently experiencing my abstract world, I can see, I don’t know where I picture these memories but I see them. Touch the grass, breathe in the scent of the ocean. Present. Physically, mentally, present.

I’ve experienced the world. What a wondrous place. So much known, though we humans don’t know a thing. We try to continue the continuation. Innovations. Big ideas, small ideas, we leave our imprints all over. What’s art without Vincent? We don’t know life other than what life graciously let us view. I continue trying to get to know you. Your creases and marks. The reason why you are how you are. It’s not easy. We sip colored drinks and dance and laugh and yell as we try so very hard to get a crack at you. To be let in. To understand. And we don’t stop, even if it’s killing us, we don’t stop. You’re too much to break but spreading you open is the only way of knowing you.

How’s the water?