She doesn’t look like an immortal being. In fact, she doesn’t look like a typical creature at all. In between running to the right, wandering to the left, and occasionally swallowing bits of pains and disappointments, her soul is busy defying what we know about mortality. As you try to hurt her, as you try to wound her and leave her visible scars, it only makes her grow even better. She will continue doing the things she loves, continue moving, continue spreading the feelings that we always deny without any sense of shame and hesitation. She will give herself up completely repeatedly. Her body will fall—fall hard to the ground, and her soul will turn itself inside-out, re-absorb its energy and other tiny pieces of her. Her soul is prepared to leave perpetual bliss and land to pure realms of your soothing lies once more. With open arms, she is always ready to accumulate damage throughout life, fall, and rise stronger yet again. SHARE THIS ARTICLE: |
Esthete:
'es-theet' (n.) A person who affects great love of art, music, poetry, etc., and indifference to practical matters. El Esthete or The Aesthete in English, is where I share my Literary works, artworks, and everything else in between. Categories:
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February 24 and 25, 2018, 9AM-7PM, The Elements at Eton Centris |