Sunday: Sonntag.
Sunday: Sonntag.
||Journal entry—
Inhaling each time I exhale, I somehow still hold my breath. Although I'm confident in myself, I have the circus in my ear. I still am...okay. I’m on a journey unlike any other—riding a wave of past literature passions and building new relationships every day.
In a very narrow sense, I feel 'seen' more than ever. But it's not through that I have seen-there's not really much there to see. I have been taken by storm every day. Yet I do not want to be too obtuse because that would jeopardize my journey.
As well as terrified, I'm also unafraid. I'm happy, as well as sad. I'm privileged, even if I'm rebellious. Pushing the envelope, stomping on the tip of my toes... I know I'm rebellious, but I don't know what to call it.
Each conversation should be open-ended; but I do not want to overdo it. Round Robin circles... I can't escape the circus. It's up there and it's loud. No romanticization here; just the truth.
There's a good chance I won't do another Sunday entry. That's okay. Nothing is ever going to be the same and nothing will ever be different --but still the same. So let me leave this entry open ended. I'm leaving it up to My Future self to interpret.
More Posts from Jolieflows and Others
“I’ve learned people are made of layers and sometimes you have to wait until the next one is revealed.”
— @sixwordssayitall
And my soul... aches.
- Sylvia Plath, from the 'Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath'
Lara Croft: Tomb Raider Press Conference, 2001
Angelina Jolie by Michel Bourquard; 1994
An astonishing combination of delectable sweetness and mystifying cacophony. Ear-warming. What is? Why the spring days ahead—that is.
The longer nights, shortened days, sunrises, and sunsets are upon us; they love us. Connotations of sweetness. Looking ahead, anticipating the joys of spring...
We wish to keep, possess, and not wonder any more of what lies ahead. We wish to be enchanted, overcome by delirium when it comes. We wish to have our arms outstretched to catch the peaking days. We wish to close our eyes on the settling nights.
Spring...
Spring...
Spring.
𝑱𝒂𝒏, 5𝒕𝒉 97’
In love with someone looks like an adventure that never ends. It's as if you're walking a never-ending journey. Love sounds like a conqueror. Budding its way through life are two people who are making their lives about each other.
The word conquer keeps coming up in my writings, because there is a huge part of me that wants that to be, known as my love. Not that I want to conquer someone; rather that they conquer me. I'm always at the top of my game. I'd like to go down.
You have to be with me where the conversations are endless. That the silence is as loud as laughter. You need to wear the ringing dissonance of anger that comes only seconds after a heated argument. You must conquer me. Recite poetry with me. Cry with me. Laugh with me.
First one. Won't be the last.
