destin | 17 | she/her | brolys gf
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april 12th, 2019. this entire upcoming week it’s supposed to feature nothing but rainy days, gray skies and soft - or hard pitter patters of rain meeting concrete. but all i can imagine its cerulean blue skies with clouds…rolling across the heavens with no destination in particular. all i can imagine is soft winds arching the green stems of a flower, pulling the petals of dandelions… and you. where is your destination, i wonder.
september 4th, 2019. i count the stars at night knowing you’re one of them. we all must return to the earth one day. we all come and go, soft as birds gliding with the wind. i look up toward a dark ceiling, and my eyesight blurs against the ombre of black. i am taken to some other place. the voices beyond my door, voices which are familiar and initially distinct, are now much further. it’s harder to breathe. what was once so easy for me has now been coarsed with the roughened edges of life. i’m sorry life dealt you that card.
september 13th, 2019. the volume of the evening bugs with their all too common chirps are low, but i know as the night progresses, so will their noise level. as i pen these words, i find myself undergoing an overwhelming sensation of all things bittersweet. how far we’ve come from the beginning of the year, yet everything feels so close. i was just wishing you merry christmas. i was hoping for you to have an easy transition into the new year. i had not realized that you were dead, with at least 35 stab wounds to the back.
october 7th, 2019. i’m sorry. ever since i found out about your death, all i can seem to make out of it is sad stories. i feel all i’m reducing you to is words on paper. that is no way to honor you. but i can’t visit your grave. this will be the first spring you’ve missed. the first summer you’ve missed. the first autumn and soon to be a second winter. in all the days that have passed, in all the times that the heavens was blessed with its pretty colors, it had missed your eyes.
november 26th, 2019. i’m sick of writing this stories that pleases everyone but me. i’m sick of living, im sick of dying. i’m sick of breathing. i’m sick of feeling adrenaline pump blood to my veins. i’m sick of this toothache. i’m sick of this headache. i’m especially sick of this heartache. because it isn’t just for one reason. its for a lot of reasons. my great grandmother is dead. my friend is dead. my aunt sarah is dead. everyone around me is dying, and if they're not dying, their lifespan is shortening. and it never stops shortening until their energies transferred and i'm left all alone with these four corners of my mind to overanalyze.
december 18th, 2019. there is no one more sadder than i. beneath frequent elation and underneath the surface of pragmatic emotions lay an unshakable dejected trait. adrenaline dies and from the embers of my heart, i can never be truly happy. this year, people, places, ideas and concepts have been pried from my hands. this year, i thank god that i have lived so long, and i thank god i don't have to live forever.
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september 3rd, 2019. this feels wildly different. one would rather cautiously dip their toes when exposing themselves to something new, like testing the waters of a bath just drawn. patience is a virtue, or so i have been told - and still, the purported laws of human evolution is constantly disregarded in the face of death. the clock struck twelve, an artificial invention, and life had not returned to your body. you were dead before then. he made sure of it. he said the devil made him do it. does the devil wield more power than god?
september 12th, 2019. colder weather’s are coming. with this arrival, the day of your death comes closer. i know not of where you are. i know not if you’re several worlds above me or below me… but sometimes when i’m outside, a certain wind passes my face, and all i can ever come to mind is you. you won’t be needing a new coat to withstand the breezes of autumn. you won’t be needing new sneakers to crunch the architecture of decrepit leaves with: for you are now with them. you’re where you were supposed to go.
october 4th, 2019. good afternoon. too many of my tears have been wasted on an empty tomb. that tomb wasn’t always empty. it was once filled to the brim with the prettiest of flowers and the vibrancy of colors. oftentimes i wish the roles were reversed. oftentimes i wish it was my father who killed me. but what would change? there will still be a grieving family and a friend who wants their friend back. but it’ll sure alleviate all of this guilt i have. this guilt of living a day longer than you. this guilt of having a body that is still powered by its dreams. this guilt of being happy, of being sad, of being angry and confused. did you struggle in math like i do? do i hate getting up in the morning so early for school as much as you did? did you laugh with your friends like we do? we’re all so similar, and yet so different. we all have bits and pieces of souls. they’re emanations left by time.
november 5th, 2019. i close my eyes and i picture empty fields and cerulean skies. a soft wind entices short blades of grass into a short-lived dance before they assume their motionless position: an idle, docile way to live. clouds roll over the heavens to a destination unknown, to a land untouched. this year, i learned that energy will transfer at any moment. regardless of its alignment, it always ricochets back to the earth. in another life, i would like to be more than i am now.
december 6th, 2019. my back is bare and is turned for all those to see, even those that i myself cannot. goosebumps descend down onto my skin like white feathers and suddenly, i feel my heart swell with nostalgic relief. just tell me what to do from here
you open your eyes and |
palestrina, woo 17, act i. i am going to die someday. that i know. one day, i will stop living. and i will stop dying, too. but i am glad it was not yesterday. i am glad it is not today. i will be even gladder if it is not tomorrow. these are words i live by. i’ve seen so many sunsets and so many sunrises and i cannot help but be grateful. i have seen many times of the sun at its zenith and the moon at its lowest, with its different forms and different placements in the sky. i’ve witnessed so many times starry nights and evenings in which the sky had only an obsidian charm to it. i’ve said happy birthday to loved ones, even if loved ones they may no longer be, so many times. i’ve said i love you’s to cherished ones, even if cherished ones they may no longer be, many times more. i’ve opened my mouth to commit to a song of laughter with ex-friends, even if ex-friends they formerly were not, to where my heart bubbles with ardor at the thought. ex-friends and a shortened list of cherished ones i may have, i am happy that the stars aligned and connected our souls together, even if it was not for long. i am learning to live deliberately and give into the eccentricities of life and to disregard its formalities. life is too short. life is too long.
