on the quintessential-
she stood, drifting between that elusive space of what is and what could be.
she hated time and loved it in the same; the way it takes away and gives--o how it gives...
her heart, she feared would never be understood, remaining wholly undiscovered. there exist no algorithm for decipherment. and she wanted more than anything to be discovered, or at least to have an attempt be made to said unveiling.
locked doors hold sacred things, right?
she was so exhausted, the weight of solitude pressing heavy on her chest. but the thing is: she didn't want a different life, she wanted her life and more. she wanted to be the story, and write the story at the same time. she wanted to watch her life and experience it. she wanted to travel the world and never leave home. she was a paradox.
what she wants is the quintessential: the root of the root of the root.
she hated time and loved it in the same; the way it takes away and gives--o how it gives...
her heart, she feared would never be understood, remaining wholly undiscovered. there exist no algorithm for decipherment. and she wanted more than anything to be discovered, or at least to have an attempt be made to said unveiling.
locked doors hold sacred things, right?
she was so exhausted, the weight of solitude pressing heavy on her chest. but the thing is: she didn't want a different life, she wanted her life and more. she wanted to be the story, and write the story at the same time. she wanted to watch her life and experience it. she wanted to travel the world and never leave home. she was a paradox.
what she wants is the quintessential: the root of the root of the root.
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thank you for your words...xoxo