Tag Archives: understood

81. the yellow vibrancy of life

how vain i should be to reread my own posts, but sometimes, late at night or early in the morning, i find myself scrolling through the past on the computer, mouthing the words or simply caressing them with my eyes. because within me there is something i have not yet understood. an undercurrent of a river lost in my old, unpracticed tongue.
rio de la plata maybe. or river of the sun.

even the sun has sunspots, darker on the background of virginal white; and so i have the blind spots: i always find them when i try. no light is enough to banish the spot of darkess on my sleeve: the drop of blood refusing to wash off in hot water. it would wash off in the cold, i know, but it’ll never get the chance.
chances are far and in between, don’t you know?

and i find myself every time, unexpected, like red peonies on a rose bush in may.
находжу себе кожен раз в шматку чорного хліба.

but what is there to find, other than the poems i had learnt by heart in years three and five. and seven. wordsworth’s daffodils.
the yellow vibrancy of life.

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30. love’s only ignorance after all

like a tidal wave, i ride out the headache, the thump thump thump just a sound in the vast expanse of the sea.

and in the moment, i think of what was washed away by the tide of time, the pebbles lost in the deep blue. it’s odd how Y has almost disappered from my horizon, no longer the blinding sun, he turned to ash, forming a grey flock of seaguls in the azure sky.
my handsome dark prince no more, thought that no more is questionable for he was never handsome, never even in the delirium of my mind. i knew better than that, my heart just as sensible as my head.

i’d say these thoughts are stemming from nothing, that they are messages in ancient bottles surfacing again after aeons of days and nights in the depth of the gurgling waters of my dreams but that is not so.
i realise now that only by observing others do we learn a little of ourselves.
today i saw love as it really is, undiluted, unblemished. i saw that look of helpless adoration, unconditional, my friend’s eyes glistening as if he was perfect for her and she for him.
and it didn’t surprise me much that he was not handsome, nor intelligent, nor charismatic much and i understood it all. what surprised me was that it didn’t concern me that i’ve never felt like that.

love’s only ignorance after all.