bethanyruth
the water isn't good enough without the bitter taste of reality. the ocean of my life would not be so satisfying without the turmoil, the edge, the rages and the passions i so often indulge. so i let it run its course, hit the world, replenish it, give nourishment for everyone else. saltwater.
i can dance around this space with you. i can play the jester for your pleasure. i can speak the voices you love to hear or mime if you want silence. i can wear all the faces in this chest of mine but you will rarely see my own. i am sinking under all of who you think i am and you don't even like the show that much.
music of the sky. let us know we are not the only ones here. world be alive and let us be never alone. speak your mind, pour out your heart in rain and silver shards like any of us who have ever been hurt and then let the sun shine because we can move on and the world can be good again.
you are mine.
Everything happened in slow motion. The smoke rose like liquid through the air in front of his face and his eyes pierced through it as though it were a shield. I hated the smell of toxicity but when his fingers wrapped around the cigarette and his lips fold as he inhaled then opened once more like a flower to kiss me I had to love the taste. I'm an addict for second-hand smoke.
i look out at the city. the busy streets and tall, metallic buildings remind me of London but here in Madrid even the structure of the city seems to have an accent. The colours are somehow different, there is still a sense of tradition and exoticism in the brickwork, the cement. And there, right outside my window an enormous crane over the beautiful old train station that tells me this place is growing and things are about to change.
I like to think that everyone is unique; That we are all different in some way and that it is because of our own choices and the soul we were born with that makes us special. However, I can't help but notice that everything I own I was given. My looks were given from my family. My morals given to me from my teachers and parents. My humour and everything else from the pattern of events that have occurred in my life and the friends I make. Everyone and everything else, but me. I believe that this is the definition of God, this is how he creates life and I want to thank him for giving me this one.
the sun set on infatuation, too premature to catch my breath. i never knew my pulse could beat like this, or that dizziness could take my mind so easily. you are just a crush, my love, i will forget you when you leave me, but for now, you never seem to let me go and i will love the sickening torment, the strings you pull like some awful theatre where the audience vomits at the wretched sight of us. For now, i love you.
Failure is never the end. Failure is in fact the beginning of getting it right. If we never failed how would we know if we succeed? I am thankful for being ditsy at times, for being lazy or ignorant because as soon as I realise my mistake I restart much smarter, more energetic and knowledgeable.
we are never going to make it. eventually we will be forgotten. time is ticking us away and the best we can hope for is not to be remembered forever like media teaches us is the ideal but to help make the world better for future generations.
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