winter1

i felt the snow outside my window before i looked

a new and yet so familiar quietude

settling in the air

calm and cold

stalled me in my doings

a smile appearing on my lips

as i walked to the window and peered outside

to a scenery, crawled under a white duvet

of hibernation and serenity

filling the spirits

with a joy gladly revisited

 

He looked at her and there was something in his glance; the power of it almost frightened her. It was that emotion that had been steadily building between them ever since the night he had appeared at her window. A feeling beyond love, beyond passion. It seemed to lay its fingers on her very soul, causing her to shiver with breathless delight. Wendy still did not fully understand that part of herself he had awoken. It was too vast and dizzying to contemplate. The depth of her feelings towards him was boundless, unrestrained, almost terrifying in its disregard for limits.*

 

and i wonder once again

will anything ever touch me?

have i grown so accustomed to this inner world

that i have grown estranged to the outer one?

as if every unseeable, untouchable molecule inside of me

is more tangible

than anything outside my skin

as if every ghost of imagination

is more real, more feeling

than anyone i meet otherwise

a sensitivity split

have i lost my mind

or lost myself to my mind

or is it one and the same?

i may never know

because

i can never be sure of my own answer

 

we are all made of sadness and stardust

but i pity those who only wrestle meteors

and wish for shooting stars

they do not see the beauty in being

nor accept solitude

the sharp edges of the meteors

grating into their hearts

making them react to others

with elbows made of gravel and rock

and they do not see that every star that falls

is every tear from the ones they hurt

I may not have faith in any God or know the purpose of my existence – other than I exist.

I have faith in humanity and I doubt humanity. It is as beautiful at it is ugly. Destructive and creative. Self-destructive and self-creative.

Such gentle, self-sacrifizing and compassionate spirits that have lived and walked on this Earth. Such cruel, hateful, all-destructive souls who have crushed everything, including themselves, on their paths. All have left footprints in the sand that lead the way or that we sink into and drown.

Humanity binds and unbinds itself in an eternal cycle until it is time for it to perish – billion of years into the future.

So strange to think of time like that; to think of the landscape billions of years ahead. What will we have made the earth into? A nightmarish, dystopian scenery? Of nullified poles, enlarged seas, desert-like landscapes of land; overflowing with trash from the past and new wars to fight?

Will the earth return to us or must we return to it?

How altered we must have become as humans as well by then. So far from our conception … or perhaps even closer to it?

The human mind will never be able to see that picture clearly before the time is right.

Until then, I hope humanity doesn’t manage to destroy itself. I hope it saves itself.

I stand by and watch it fighting against everyone and itself. As long as it exists it will keep fighting. I try to find my place in it all and help the best I can, knowing my voice will never be enough. I wish I could do more. But I’m only human.

Yet, even the gods throughout time have proven to not be enough.