It had to happen. There are no shortcuts for learning, or growing, or healing. There is not one path that will show you a lighted road, full of a bright sun and just a couple of rain drops. There's no escape from the pain in a funny and easy way, and there's certainly not an important story that doesn't involve pain.
So you dive in. You dive into the uncertain and unpleasant path of tearing your skin apart until you get to your bones and feel what you have to feel. You scream and feel like dying and jump later into an indescribable numbness, to what once seemed to be an unreachable darkness. And you sink 'til you can't breathe.
Then you finally feel the bottom layer, and you choke. It's time to start the way up again.
ART
"The only way out is through"
Jan 31, 2019
Jan 4, 2019
Sunrise
The night is running through my veins, like a heart attack, but slower. I can feel the smoke that I still haven't lighted up in my mouth, as dry as it can get. Then, I know that the sun may come up soon and sometimes I have a smile to welcome her, other times, I don't. Sunrises are my favourite part of the day, though I don't see them often. I'm the kind of girl that only watches a sunrise when the night is over, instead of at the start of the day. For me, sunrises can be a beginning, but much more of an end, a beautiful end in the middle of a mess.
The lightbulbs in my room like to go insane every few months, and I got used to it. I know that those lights won't last long, and I have to change them every once in a while. Maybe their energy gets dried out easily here, maybe I'm just nostalgic about endings even when I like them. But there's this perfect moment, right before the sunrise, when the cold is a little bit heavier and the world a little bit quieter; and you can feel the dew on your skin. It's a caress and a chill at the same time, just like all the best things in life.
I had to learn the hard way that not everything you love is going to stay, even within yourself; and not everything you hate is here to cause you pain. And when my path became harder, I knew that I had to become my best friend. When times were difficult, I was never without a hand to hold; when there was a starry sky I could always have a smile to look up for. But there's a middle point, between me and myself, that regenerates every time a sparkle becomes a fire, and knows how to save me; more than the hand that holds me, or the eyes that smile at me. Because when even the days are dark, and loneliness is the roof above my head, I know that I have to be my best friend.
ART
The sunrise is my best friend.
The lightbulbs in my room like to go insane every few months, and I got used to it. I know that those lights won't last long, and I have to change them every once in a while. Maybe their energy gets dried out easily here, maybe I'm just nostalgic about endings even when I like them. But there's this perfect moment, right before the sunrise, when the cold is a little bit heavier and the world a little bit quieter; and you can feel the dew on your skin. It's a caress and a chill at the same time, just like all the best things in life.
I had to learn the hard way that not everything you love is going to stay, even within yourself; and not everything you hate is here to cause you pain. And when my path became harder, I knew that I had to become my best friend. When times were difficult, I was never without a hand to hold; when there was a starry sky I could always have a smile to look up for. But there's a middle point, between me and myself, that regenerates every time a sparkle becomes a fire, and knows how to save me; more than the hand that holds me, or the eyes that smile at me. Because when even the days are dark, and loneliness is the roof above my head, I know that I have to be my best friend.
ART
The sunrise is my best friend.
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