Burgundy and defeat.

I'd say, I'm numb. I would say it over and over again. I am not. I feel it. Stronger than ever. Feelings flare up. I barely hear my own voice. I would say I've never been in a situation more painful, but I have and I felt it then as I feel it now. Emotions, are terrorist. They win. 

It is this time of year, July, the tricky part of July, that manages to always takes revenge. Different ways, the very same result. Defeat. 

Emotions can control every single fiber of us, like puppets on a string. Life makes a complete joke out of everything. What good does wishful thinking ever do? 

Dots.

Some cultures speak through silence, and learn through listening. However, the society and culture we live in speaks the language of rumours, false assumptions and accusations, fiction and a little spicing things up.  I wouldn't say we learn through listening, because we rarely do. We feed on the things we hear, and so badly want to believe. By that we start catagorizing other people as, the enemy. Simply because the only rational, sane, normal thing to do is judge. Putting each and every little detail that is none of our business, under a microscope. One with a broken lens, one that only shows us what we want to see, the art of make believe. Only reflects on who we are. At some point in your life, you realize that you are above certain things and that is exactly why you lose the urge to act upon them. Only because, they don't matter to you. I was raised by parents who taught me to always raise above. Remember, everything that is far from the truth, past on by little minds is merely a reflection of the person who started them. Exactly why I decided to raise above, sit back and watch the world connect the dots on its own. 

Lace and sunlight.

White. Peonies. Sunlight. And maybe lace. Clarity. Compromises. Gold in the air. Plenty of beauty in simplicity. The smell of freshly cut grass. I vividly remember the streets we were walking, the patch of that sidewalk, mid-summer day, laughter, giggles and happiness. I can still see the brightness the dark grey cement brought to my blue shoes. The contradiction. And that wasn't all there was more to that day and all the other days than just that. But everything else after is a blur. Faded, mostly gone. Usually, the question is, why do we only remember bitterness? In the face of what truly matters, we seek refuge in what makes more sense to pride and less sense to compassion. Remember, what made us happy then? That trademark twinkle in your eyes? Remember, how only the little beautiful things matter? Remember, when it was us against the world, hand in hand? Remember, why we stick together? Remember, where we had the time of our lives? Because I do. How can I forget. It brings back, all the joy and laughter and I feel it as I recall how you and I were the center of our little universe. Back when my circle only fit two feet. Ours. 


If your past was in a glass house. Would you be looking in or looking out?