crumpledfoilmind - Tumblr blog

[crumpledfoilmind]

I have no things to say, not when I feel so good. The fullness is all engulfing, the warmth wholly radiating, and the cheer situated in such a way to emanate constantly. My colors are sun red and gold, and I reflect, what a good life. It seems as though it will never end.

I am aware in these moments of the inconstancy of forever. My forever dreams and forever happiness. Cut so shortly and cruelly and suddenly. And when it is bleak I can’t see the sun over the roughness of the sea.

In this moment, I stand at the edge of the water. How the sand grains glisten, how the waves sleepily lick my feet. How golden the hour is. And before me, the rage beckons. The black harkens. The despair calls my name in a gentle lilt.

And I go because I am a fool on the pendulum swing. I cannot hold on to happiness. It is my lot to let it go and sink into depths where light strains to reach. It is my shortcoming to be so given to gloom.

Feeling full on joy, I reflect on the inevitability of melancholy I am so wont to embrace. I am so willing to fall and hate where I have fallen. I am so much. My joy all encompassing. My sadness all devouring. Why am I so averse to middles?

I write so that I have a testimony to this state of mind. Furious scrawl, let it be known that I was happy. That life was day. Forever.

Let it be known that I can be this happy. That I have a capacity to feel other than nothing. That I am human. That I am feeling.

The dark drought comes with a roil of angry clouds on the horizon. Sky deep red of tiredness and giving up. Blistering, boiling, seething. Here, it is the end. Swallow me up.

I write these words with desperation. I swear, I plea, that I am human. Can’t I be freed of it? This primal darkness that takes all of me into insignificance. The apocalypse.

The world has ended many times before. I have waken anew. Sometimes to a good life, sometimes to a bad one. That is the way of the pendulum swing.

This is the lot of immortality. Multiple lives in one. To feel, to feel wholly and truly. Oh, but the darkness hasn’t come yet though I feel the wind. I stand with my back to the sun. It does yet hold me true.

I stand with my back to the sun. It does yet warm me through.

[crumpledfoilmind]

”it really hurts”

“I know”

“I really liked them”

“I know”

[crumpledfoilmind]

[crumpledfoilmind]

So much sadness locked inside. Yearning heart. More, devouring, I want everything. I want the world. Crushed egg dreams, and yet I dream. There is no rhythm or rhyme to my wanting. My hunger. Tell me, was I not meant for more than this? Forced to live mundane. Glass heart yearning. Crushed eggshell dreaming. And when I am smashed and cracked into craggly bits they will say, oh but her time is so soon. She who wanted everything. She who wanted the world. It’s a hard fall to this broken floor. Tiles piercing already pierced. Madness mosaic, smorgasbord of feeling. Too much of it inside of me. Also too little. when will I stop blaming the world for the unfullfiment of my dreams? Surely it is all my fault. Surely I am a toy with a corkscrew in the back of my back that winds and winds and winds. When I’m set free it will be over. Toys don’t have souls. Toys don’t have wants. Toys lie on the ground unseeing, unfeeling. No eggshell dreams for there were none. Oh, to be a thing that doesn’t have to wrestle with this surplus of feeling!

[crumpledfoilmind]

Jade looked inside her heart. It was a deep, fleshy red thing. Incessant beating. If only I could feel, Jade thought. If only I could be human. Drink coffee late in the day as I watch a sunset on the beach. Play board games with dear ones as the night grows long and lighter with each expression of joy. Alas, my heart is a base creature. Left to thrum to its own rigid design. That’s the way the jeweler had made her. Constructed Jade out of glass, encrusted her lashes with crystal and set two opals where her eyes should be. But her heart was that of flesh, and as it drummed on it gave her thoughts. Jade wanted to be more human than she was. But this life was not for Jade to win in. So one silent night in the dark she crept to the jewel cupboard. She chose with her brittle fingers a gem. Then she gently opened the door to her heart and wrenched it out. Her last action was to set the sparkling emerald in the subsequent cavity. Finally Jade was complete, if completely dead. Finally she had something for herself, a wholeness to her person that would subsist. The jeweler would find her the next morning, lying on her side stationary. Another experiment failed, he tsked. Why did all these experiments want to be wholy human? Why couldn’t they be satisfied to be a grotesque amalgamation. There was beauty in the way they had been made. The jeweler hummed as he collected materials to make the next Jade. All the while her heart lay on the floor in a pool of blood, no longer pulsing.

[crumpledfoilmind]

Pearls and diamonds, silks and ribbons. A life of glitz and laughter and good company and food. Lights that swirl overhead, and a rush of movement so as to make one delirious from joy. Praying this lifetime never ends.

But then the darkness arches its proud neck and focuses its ruby eyes on one. Taking all that is beautiful and trustworthy, shattering the crystal image that hovered right in front of the mirror firmly in reality. No more.

The darkness is ruin. The mire blinds. Was it real or illusory? Joy has been a transient construct.

But I am a moth to be drawn towards light. Always sinking, but the descent is slow. Fingernails rake on the surrounding mud, holding on. Holding on. Holding on.

I will rise, and the circle will run once more. Vicious cycle. Dance, laugh, die. Come back to live again and love again. Though my fate is governed by chains, at least it can be said that I’ve always had life to love. I’ve always had you to love.

fin.

[crumpledfoilmind]

Still a dreamer. Even after all these years, I’m still a dreamer.

[crumpledfoilmind]

Once upon a time, there was a girl with a wooden box in her chest. It creaked as it opened, showing a heart made of glass inside. Its ventricles and atria were constructed of broscilate tempered glass, and a clear fluid ran through the narrow tubes, catching the late afternoon light.

There was once a boy, too. He had a wooden box in his chest, and as it swung open, a pulsing, beating human heart was revealed. It was fleshy and red, and heaved with the urgency of keeping this boy alive. Blood flowed through the veins and arteries of his very real heart, opaque and obscured.

This light afternoon, the sun hung low and cast its golden hour upon the girl and boy as they stood in the chamomile meadow. The flowers nodded their heads, unaware of the resentment which flowed from the glass girl to the human boy.

“Why are you betraying me?” She asked, water flowing from her eyes. “How come you are changed?”

“The world is so big,” said the boy. “I want to see what’s out there.”

“is the meadow not enough?”

He shook his head as he closed the wooden door in his chest. Already skin was beginning to creep into the grain of the wood.

This observation made the girl feel hollow. Made her feel somehow less. Before they were the same together. Now he was falling out of her reach. Becoming human.

In this land, there was a door in the sky in the shadow of the sun. When dusk fell every day, a cloud staircase would form, leading to the door. As late afternoon descended into sunset, the barest outlines of the staircase began to form.

“So you’ll climb the stairs.” The girl said, voice breaking. She started to shake under the weight of emotions that her mind couldn’t feel.

The boy nodded. He then turned.

“Wait.” She said. “Won’t you say goodbye?” “Goodbye,” he said, without looking back. And then the stairs coalesced and he climbed them with slow steps.

Then we he was a simple spot in the sky. Then he was one with the stars that blinked on. Then she was left with her dead heart, in the realization that she was now all alone.

[crumpledfoilmind]

To the pieces that are left, I try to save you every day, but we are sinking.

Hope is the treacherous traitor because once we give up, it is the electric jolt back into misery.

Clawing, clinging, losing feeling.

This heart grows cold wanting love. Only because it wants to love back and become an organism again, it is now just rock weighing us down; we are sinking.

I hate playing sweeper. I hate the dust that coats my fingers when I pick the fragments. I hate the voicelessness of my throat as I endeavor to scream outwards.

I crave sweet and empty peace. Hope the villain flares and whispers like the devil in my ear. Wanting Living.

Though we are sinking.

Clawing, scraping, clinging, screaming.

In the vacuum no voice comes out. But the fire burns strong in these depths. And so I hold you close to me. To the pieces that are left,

[crumpledfoilmind]

She doesn’t meet his eye for fear of turning the vivid scarlet that she blushed when she first saw his face. She peers at him from the corner of her eye. At his silhouette, carved cheekbones and long nose. He leans back in the chaise, swirling a drink in one languid hand.

A silence hangs in between them. Expectant, heavy, or tranquil. Or all three together; they have long known each other’s company. But she hasn’t before seen him in this form. Never before. But he has come for her, for one simple reason. She has decided to leave.

I no longer wish to die. She can say this. Instead, she says, “I wish to live,” and it’s such a simple change. She’s dissociating herself from his presence. She’s choosing a different side.

“Do you think,” he speaks in a low voice. Like honey to her ears. “It would be so easy to leave me?”

Just like that, she is in thrall. To the promise of nothingness and quiet. She shakes her head a little too strongly, her ringlets become undone. “No.” She says. “It has not been easy.”

He looks at her face. Turns the brunt of his gaze towards hers. She meets his glance, straining her eyes. So they do not fall into that pit. Those two black orbs, swirling, swirling, inky dark reaching stars. And she holds his eyes without falling. Without meeting their call. I will not fall, she could say. Out loud, “I will live.”

Even now she can feel the pain from staring. Even now her breath comes out in short bursts. The hurt in her body is screaming.

“Do you think,” he says. “It will be so easy?”

You will haunt me no longer, says in her mind. She says, “I will be free of you.”

He frowns, and she stills the instinctive flinch. “I protected you,” he says. “I kept you safe.”

“You kept me chained. Told me all there is is you. The world is so much more than that. I will live.” She keeps the waver out of her voice. Speaks strongly. Imparts all the conviction she can into her voice, her one last weapon of reason against the monster.

“Do you think,” He echoes, faint tremor in his voice. “It will be so easy?”

She does the unthinkable. She rises and takes his face in her hands. His skin is cold marble to the touch. She kisses his cheek and the surprise lights up his eyes. Turns them from dead stars to burning grey. Sky of this world, not one where she had wished to go.

“Thank you for keeping me safe. But now you must go.”

“Do you think,” His voice trembles. “It will be so easy.”

She doesn’t reply, even as he fades. Before he goes she sees the reflection of herself in his eyes. Stormy grey instead of fire. He will always be with her. When she is at her weakest, when she despairs. But,

“I no longer wish to die,” She says to the empty room. “So I will live.”

[crumpledfoilmind]

Last goodbyes. Sun warmed grass and sun warmed earth, freshly turned. Love and laughter and light streaming down through the trees and I think that life is so precious today. Today, every day, goodbye to you today.

[crumpledfoilmind]

just finished golden son after months of procrastination and just. WHAT.

[crumpledfoilmind]

Can you love me? I am aching to be loved by you, though I know that your love is so cold. But I need to be loved by you or else I can’t see anything good about trudging on. I close my eyes at night and they open the next morning. I wonder if I will go to heaven or if my sins are so damning as to keep me from. I wonder if my fight in life is the weight in my chest that swells and consumes and convinces me that all the happy times were untrue. Not because they didn’t happen, but because they didn’t make an impression enough to change me. I am still the same. Nonetheless, can you find it within yourself to love me?

[crumpledfoilmind]

Oh, but I’m so tired of this charade. I stare at a blank page and no words will come but these ones. Melancholy disposition. I have found joy and I hold it so dearly. It is so precious. Because it inevitably fades to black. Swallowing. All encompassing. And as I’m slowly drowned I think of the happy moments, and how must they have been true when I’m like this. But the dark eats me. I come back unharmed to be consumed again. I don’t see slivers of light but I know they must be there, shining. And that’s enough for me to come back to life.

[crumpledfoilmind]

Can I have a dance. Can I laugh and turn in circles so that I get dizzy and just have to sit down, mind reeling from the euphoria and drunkenness of for once, being happy. Because why is it so hard, when I have everything. To be happy. Why is there a weight within me that gets lighter but never goes away. A pull to the sadness, magnetically linked. To which I say, I laugh and it is sad, can we dance? There’s two of us, can we keep each other company? Me and my sorrow that stems from nowhere but whose presence is unquestionable. If you must stay, can you at least let me be happy?

[crumpledfoilmind]

there’s a hollowness to you. Edges fraying. I ask, what is your name, squint, forget my question. It’s like you’re not even there. Clinging to the bounds of this life. I tell you to go home. I release you. Into a place so unlike our own. You will get your ending. You will smell your roses. Loops of time. Laughs and smiles. Forever golden hour. Just close your eyes, -. You will be free.

[crumpledfoilmind]

I hold this dream in my hands. It is a fragile thing, breaking out of me. Crack in my chest where it spun forth from. I see it in hologram form. It is still intangible. I’m scared this dream will disappear. It’s taken so long to draw it out. To see it. To believe it can be. This dream keeps me alive when the night is dark. Keeps me hoping. One day my dream will come true. If I can hold it steady. Not allow it to flicker out. But when that day comes,