#47 beneath the crumbling skies.



“A friend is someone who knows all about you and still loves you.”
Elbert Hubbard

It’s been a few days since I’ve posted, but it seems my writing prowess has left me barren for the time being. I’ve also piled books upon books haphazardly, hastily written on a torn paper, waiting that I scribble off their name. Summer is just upon us, and I have much to learn, much to do. Recently, things have come, lingered longer, feelings slipping in, like ichor. As if breathing can, and does become difficult.

I feel sometimes, quite so naive. So, I’ll slap my knee, and choke back laughter. People will tilt their heads, scowls etched in quite brashly. Scribbles of worn lines across their forehead, eyelashes uncovering a gentle gaze, it’s aged wisdom beckoning I sit back, and watch. I sometimes rebel, and the dying gasp of a rebuttal echoes, only to volatilize in the wind. Every giggle, every cry, every smile, seems to have a story behind it now. And I want to know them. I want to be able to sketch their every detail, create a canvas, a chronicle.

But I’m left with a vacant mind, and an acquired sense of blatant disregard.

So, to finish,

I am this naivete girl.



6 thoughts on “#47 beneath the crumbling skies.”

  1. Wonderful writing. And oh the vacant mind feeling! I know it well. I’ve come to think of it as the empty teapot. Eventually it will fill with cold water and sit there. And sit there. And eventually, maybe, the water will start to move, simmer, bubble. And if I’m really lucky, boil,and then I’m writing again. But every time that pot is empty, I feel like it will be forever. I always doubt, and am never reassured when I tell myself it always fills back up. Because I think, what if this is the time it doesn’t? Well, so far, it always has. I think that’s the definition of patience for a writer. Waiting and worrying.

    1. Thank you! It’s a terrible ailment, is it not? But beautifully crafted, figurative imagery. I understand, it’s brimming, until one finds the insatiable need for it to overflow. It’s a constant battle with one’s self! But hey, we need to hang in there!

  2. I sometimes lose my train of thought and I am still young, relatively. But now I find I am writing and my mind stays on track. At my worst with depression my mind drew a complete blank.

    1. One tends to lose their train of thought quite quickly. I’m young as well, and the battles just a tad tougher. Oh no, I know exactly what you mean. Depression is a unavoidable disease at times.. I hope that it would be something that could be cured with the snap of a finger. Alas, no.

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