Resonate Within An Elegance; Spread Far Beyond & Forever Thinner.

I'll listen for a while

but soon I'll start writing

the air absorbs my words

whispered ink, floating, swirling

a thousand voices silently churning

a brilliant light that clouds the senses

drowning in heady daydreams

and forgotten thoughts.

'I'm sorry, what did you say?' I'll say politely.

I’ve just finished reading The Girl Who Chased the Moon and magic realism is my new favourite thing - historical fantasy has always been my lane, but I’m definitely branching out. I have already ordered some more of Sarah Addison Allen’s books and I’m thinking of making a list of some more magical realism books. Recommendations are welcome!

Thursday, 8th July 2021

There is freedom in the shadowed storm as the veil-wrapped sky billows in a climbing release. I lay here on the rough strewn ground, a wilderness of rain-kissed grass, tumbled yarn, and loose cut threads. Find me in the running lake carving eyes into the overgrown path, lost to the planted sky now curling into a silver smile.

Freedom is more than just running through the rain on Thursday afternoons.

Tuesday, 28th September 2021

My reality is shaped in colours; a painting blurred in depths of hues, brushed by a wandering silence.

   —  Anna Akhmatova, "The Sentence," from The Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova, translated by Judith Hemschemeyer

[text ID: Today I have so much to do: / I must kill memory once and for all, / I must turn my soul to stone, / I must learn to live again—]

Much of what happens to us in life is nameless because our vocabulary is too poor. Most stories get told out loud because the storyteller hopes that the telling of the story can transform a nameless event into a familiar or intimate one. We tend to associate intimacy with closeness and closeness with a certain sum of shared experiences. Yet in reality total strangers, who will never say a single word to each other, can share an intimacy — an intimacy contained in the exchange of a glance, a nod of the head, a smile, a shrug of a shoulder. A closeness that lasts for minutes or for the duration of a song that is being listened to together. An agreement about life. An agreement without clauses. A conclusion spontaneously shared between the untold stories gathered around the song.

John Berger, "Some Notes on Song (for Yasmine Hamdan)"

I am caught on the wind adrift

bound by a grieving sky

still within a restless storm 

buried beneath its striking fire

We live the realities that we create

“Forgive me if I don’t talk much at times. It’s loud enough in my head.”

— Unknown

“The moon is honey on the mouths of madmen”

— Guillaume Apollinaire, from Claire de Lune; Alcools: Poems (tr. by Donald Revell), 1913