serenamithane

serenamithane

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orbit

things revolve around you in strange ways. you pull me in with gravity and i find myself facing the infinity of your strange galaxies- closing gaps finding stars and finding planets i have always dreamed of space exploration.

He held the tarot card in his hand and pursed his lips. He read the equivalent meaning in his guidebook: Authority, father-figure, structure, solid foundation. If reversed: Domination, excessive control, rigidity, inflexibility This did not answer the question he had in mind. Not in the way he had wanted. He cleared the table with one sweep of his arm. The upside-down card stared back at him with a glint in its eye. His empire would rise again. His people would come to love him. It was only a matter of time. He snapped his fingers and they took the prophet away. No cards would tell him his rule would not bring glory back to this kingdom. His father had built all this up for him. He would not disappoint.

the darkest places are always where the stars are brightest- i remember you saying this. it is almost as if cities decide that the lights belong down on earth - from an airplane, the view of the urban landscape feels like you are looking down at the night sky. i guess this means our progress comes at the expense of forgetting the ones that always brought us home in the days we were lost. one day, if i ever achieve my dreams, i know it will be because you guided me back to where i wanted to go, when i needed it most. i learned to chart each and every path around you, when the horizons around me were unfamiliar. and even if this means we will go on separate paths one day, you will never really fade from the memories of each time i observe the sunset- i could never really drown out your light, even if i was able to restore mine. i guess this was why it's accurate, that i met you from the transition of insomniac-filled nights to painted mornings- because maybe you weren't the common perception of what we think are stars- not all of them appear in the night time; and not all of them are of the same distance, even if they might appear to be. and i am willing to take on the risk that we belong on different timelines - but you will always be the reminder throughout my history of the possibility of new beginnings.

there was something in the way you would talk about how you saw the world - and it was then that i realized that amid the darkness around you, there would always be something to show that would be larger than life - beyond anything i've seen, and always worth looking toward. it is true that i can see the same thing, tucked away in smaller views, in brighter places that don't have to be as cold - but there is something irreplaceable, about seeing it for how it's made to be appreciated - out in the world, surrounded by people who can share in the experience. this, i realized - was your vision. how wonderful it'll be, for the person you one day find who will be the projection that fills the darkness for you.

His unkempt hair stuck out in waves, and she stared at him to preserve this image of him in her head. He had woken up a few seconds ago, and his eyes adjusted to the room around them. "...We really did it." "Yeah." She ruffled his hair. "We're married."

fools

The number zero is full of infinite potential. You start with nothing, and can fill it with everything. The truth is that this is when you can reach the farthest. People forget that in the end, everyone is a fool.

I remember you most in frayed gray trenchcoats and the way you always said mysteries don't end with their solutions. There were questions left unanswered when you took off unnamed under a fedora that shaded your eyes from the reality that you were never coming back. And I took every single clue there was to try and map out the fingerprints you left all over my memory and an attempt at looking for notes that resembled your handwriting because I refused to believe that there were mysteries that weren't made to be figured out. Because the only things I allowed to be unsolvable were people as dysfunctional as you. And maybe I was just unprepared to face the truth of how improbable the evidence left was because I tried to prove to myself that it was impossible that I couldn't defy the logic that came with your deductions so effortlessly. It was difficult to accept that you were right when you said that mysteries don't always end with their solutions. Because I couldn't find you anywhere- my eyes could only assume to see you everywhere.

flour

I would like to believe I'm a well-made cake. But the truth is, I'm still in the making. Sometimes I realize the flour isn't sifted yet. Or that I don't really know what baking soda is for. The oven is outdated by now. And unfortunately, I don't know how to turn on the gas. I constantly burn my fingers on too-short matches. I keep trying to knead out my rough patches. Without realizing that there is such thing as too much. I have never been very good at baking. I keep telling myself I will be a three-tiered piece. But my layers keep crumbling into themselves. And I think I may have used salt instead of sugar. I rely too much on frosting to cover up mistakes. There are places where the mixture failed. And I am not a masterpiece ready for a celebration. The cake did not rise up like it had planned to. You would think following a recipe would be easy. But instructions are not always concise. Life is not always that predictable. And sometimes you really are just clumsy. But I am more than measuring cups. I am not just well-branded ingredients wasted. I am an effort of three hours and flour patches. I am a honey-stained apron on a Saturday morning. I am what children try to make for their mothers as thank you. I am what the awkward guy tried to make on Valentine's day. I am what the lonely watch professionals succeed at on motionless days. I am the holder of wishes as the world makes revolutions. I am more than just a failed attempt at doing something step-by-step. So why do you keep saying I'm a lie?

vines

The vines outside my house slowly start to take over and trap me inside but I've long given up on the idea that the outside meant any kind of freedom for me. And I watch as the vines grow and the way they can't stand on their own and think to myself that they're lucky that when people get their fruit it can at least be used for celebrations and they help people want to be more free- which is more than what you can say for me.

It had started with a tiny ticking noise in my head, and from there I don't know how it spread. All I know is that it was driving me crazy. It kept repeating itself, like the sound of a clock. So I ran through my house smashing every last timepiece I could find. I hate it. I kept hearing it and it was reminding me that I was too late. I was too late. I didn't come on time. I should have. Tick. Tock. Tick;. Tock. They found out the clock virus was a plague that had started because of a hack in human psyche. Initially harmless, they say, it did have the capacity, however, to drive others to madness depending on their psychological profiles. That was when the dangers started of the ticktock virus started to settle in. To this day, they have no cure. And one day, it will bring me to a screeching halt as my mind snaps. Then they will all be too late. Too late. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

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writing since 2011 · 64 entries · 63 days shown up

each square is a day—lit means Serena showed up.

9longest streak

63days written

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on this day 15 years ago

Serena wrote about muse
“She stared at me and pointed the gun promptly at my temple. "Write." Well, I have to say. She has pretty good ways of inspiring me.”

the words Serena reaches for

eyesheadnowhumanstaredhandherselfslowlyhairbloodhatedfacestreetrealizedideaanother