To live tomorrow is to hold such possibility in your hands; to die today is to close that door forever.
And perhaps that is the truest meaning of life: not the certainty that we will die once, but the grace that we are allowed to live again today and tomorrow than yesterday, because every day is a new start to live for the hope of it all, or to suffer.
The cost of existence piles its burdens relentlessly until the heart staggers, the mind numbs, and every nerve burns with extreme exhaustion.
To survive is to feel the unbearable weight pressing on your chest, to endure the fatigue in every fiber of your being, to let yourself exist in the emptiness without pretending or hiding, and to slowly gather the courage to keep moving even when the life has nothing left.
I ask strange questions because my completely lost mind wanders where the right words cannot reach.
I understand that my moments of awkwardness do not diminish me; they reflect my honesty, my desire to engage meaningfully, and my willingness to do my best to both my inner world and the people around me, patiently and thoughtfully.
A veces, el silencio no es ausencia, sino la voz más sincera que llevamos dentro. Y en la penumbra, hasta el aliento suena a despedida.
📷 Photo: Harold Antonio
Colors dissolving into pale pigments—the disenchantment of life. Bleached by harsh solar rays, the sharp skeleton of coral remains sticks out of the sand, begging not to be forgotten—for a destiny other than one washed ashore, never truly part of the beach.
A veces, no se trata de sanar, sino de aprender a caminar sobre lo roto, dejando que cada paso dibuje un nuevo mapa en la penumbra. El corazón late más fuerte cuando ya no espera respuesta.
📷 Photo: ren lavsad
The bluest sky, a gentle light shade of blue. Strong in its hue yet not exactly dark, a few memories of bulbous wondering clouds are now whisps through the blue, handing out cotton candy along the way. Through them golden razors smite them through. The rays of the sun reaching across heaven and earth burning through shadows and smiting baby clouds. The Godrays they called them.Just right then I thought “wow, it’s wild how looking up at literally nothing but thin air one comes to realise so much is going on up there”. The forces of nature seem constantly at war. Yet stubbornly it thrives. From then on the winds blew, new clouds appeared and conceded their load with thunderous groans. Indiscriminately soaking all beneath them man,woman and child. Even the dogs.The water had ceased after week or so. It could be said that in the last few days of the rains that they were now ‘drizzles’ and 'scattered showers’ as rain is want to do at this stage of a rainy spell, but I had felt strongly as if it were more akin to a slow leak. The clouds were now relieved of their burden and the water had began to dry up but yet, the sky remained grey. A grey sky without any clouds, no smell of rain; the petrichor they called it. It stayed grey when the sun was shining and when the moon did.“I do believe it is rather unusual to have such an oddly coloured sky” I thought to myself. The public eyes and ears were searching for answers. The grey turned darker. Nations of the southern hemisphere begin to observe tears and holes in the sky. Looking into these great maladies of our reality they saw into themselves staring into the most darkness, a negative light zone. Wherein the darkness is exponential. Where nothing can exist. Where nothing CAN exist. A perfect world-less world. Pure concentrated weapons grade oblivion. The great empty. The abyss , the void. The lack. The great nothing , no one, no where , no when , what ,how nor why. 73 Australians died in a mass suicide incident following the discovery. There are no official reports linking the two events. The identity of those deceased were not disclosed. It didn’t matter. The Inevitable will inevitably be inevitable. Oblivion will be oblivious. You will slip and fall in into darkness as if drowning. Not a moment’s dely nor a second word. The savage thumping in your chest. Blood vessels pulsing , you can hear them. You all of a sudden realise how loud you actually are just existing.The day the sky split, the sun did not set but instead it could be said that the darkness rose. The day the sky split open to regurgitate it’s disgusting cosmic innards. Not a moment spared nor a last word had. As if in the middle of a sentence, in the middle of a breath - came forth the flood, any entity that deigned to exist, un-drowned; they were not and NOT were they. That is how being will cease to be.The end.
TOP TEN THINGS BIG CONSERVATIVE DOESNT WANT YOU TO KNOW: the world is softer and kinder than it lets on. It is also quite silly and absurd. We all live on a spinning orb with grass and water and gravity perfectly tuned to keep us glued to the floor without squishing us into meatpaste, and we communicate in words that are completely nonsensical to the majority of the population. Glory be!
Sometimes I can just stare off into space for a full few minutes, almost just lost in existential thoughts or overthinking or no thoughts at all. I can space out sometimes is I guess what I’m saying.
I feel weird again. I’ve gotten a ton of notes for one post I did, so now everything else feels like it’s getting no attention. I have new followers and mutuals and old mutuals returning from long hiatuses (hiatuses I almost envy, just because I can’t seem to kick the habit of writing). I have feeling of time moving too fast and moving too slow. I just have a really complicated mood, and I don’t know why.
Sometimes weird depressions just hit you unexpectedly. Today is one of those days. A random existenalism and depression has just hit me again. I’ll be okay, but I wonder how I’ll get back the energy to finish the last note in my drafts right now.
En la penumbra, las sombras no solo esconden secretos, sino el eco silencioso de preguntas que nunca nos atrevemos a nombrar.
📷 Photo: Gerardo Manzano
Do you know the line? “All my good intentions don’t add up to very much…” It’s been coming and going in my mind since 1997, probably. There is a mismatch between intentions and actions. Always has been. Always will be.
The world is too small for our intentions. They’re always struggling to get out there into reality, but there is not enough space, not enough time. It’s not just me. It’s me of…
What the heck am I even doing with my life at this stage
I thought I’d left the existential panic in lockdown but
Seriously what the fuck guys
