☽ 너에게 To You
A story ~ To You
"I love paintings too much, love colour too much, love seeing too much, love feeling too much, love art too much, love too much..."
-Keith Haring Journals, 1988
I never chose to live, but after so many years, I still cannot fathom how wonderful it is.
But, because I never chose to live, it sometimes hurts too.
Why is it every morning, once I arise, the tears that I yearn for don't fall from my eyes? They just sit there, waiting for me to feel it all again next time. I'm so sick and tired of it.
I can't afford to feel this way, because others take so much time reminding me of why I can't, instead of why I can.
Why can't I just walk on the same side of the road that everyone else is?
I wonder if I was birth-blessed to relish so greatly in an inhale and miss so much in an exhale; another minute of life is a dagger planting a seed into my heart but birthing a flower on its tip.
Since I was younger, I wished...that I was a tree.
They stay in one place while their roots grow deeper into the Earth's consciousness and they die to be reborn again. Their leaves flutter like confetti in the wind and honestly, I'd be smiling--honestly, I just knew that I was born to be a tree.
A purpose? Is that what you're asking me to find, society? Well, I'm sorry but I don't have one. The only thing I love doing is living, I feel like I have no other purpose than that.
Doesn't matter what occupation I slave in, what house I clean, how many offspring I sprout; I don't care as long as I can watch the long grasses grow and mimic the tall trees that sway in the breeze on a summer's day. Call me hopeless, I don't care, it's what I was born to be.
Can't I just marvel in a world so beautiful without being shamed for it?
You know, the voice in my head isn't very nice to me--even when there's an absence of matter around. Though arguably, I wouldn't have this voice if it wasn't for those that swirl around me, surging in me, their waves unleased.
A catastrophe: a call for the chaos that puts on a glamourous show for the outside. It's an everyday feeling.
This morning,
Painted the most artistic piece I've ever seen.
A golden oyster opens its shell and revealed the pearl of the horizon.
But, a word to the wise,
Never forget that this buzzing ball of solar flares holds the Earth in the cusp of its sizzling snake tongues.
It's waiting to devour us inside any second now.
And when it does,
Imagine the smile of a girl who is friends with a cosmic loneliness, but drenches in its generosity.
Watch her close her eyes while skipping in a sun-bathed white dress, visibly sparkling with her last regrets--she smiles--and you can't help but smile too.
Chaos invited her to be her childhood best friend--and oh, have the memories been wonderful. At the end of the world, everyone else will finally feel how sweet it is too.
‧̍̊˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ ˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙‧̍̊
While listening to this song:
You could look at.....the ocean.
You could be with.....yourself.
You could do something.....that sees the calm in every storm, and the storm in every calmness. Watch as the waves crawl up on the beach, only to be dragged back into the tide. Watch this happen over and over and over again.
You could eat or drink.....Korean corn dog or Kit Kat ice cream bar
You could remember that.....the saddest people often smile the brightest, because, they wish not to see other people suffer like they do, and because the suffering they feel arouses in them much gratefulness.
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