Your mind is enveloped with noise, sinister waves of frustration. This noise of disturbance is transparent to others like crystal. There’s no telepathy. No mind reader. They don’t “see” the words sketched on the inner walls of your skull. What does this noise comprise of?…
Confusion. It rides deep into the spine of anxiety. Anxiety gives birth to pessimistic fear. It crawls inside your stomach like a worm. Latching onto you like it were hugging you, refusing to let go.
Words fail to justify such irrational feelings generated from an overdose of aggravated opinions. Constantly nagging at you with a pinch of fluttering jitter of unrealistic finality. A constellation of self-generated predictions. Anticipations. Forecasting the arrival of the unknown.
Eyes waver poignantly with melancholy. It speaks volumes. Do you see those emotions transmit clearly. Like sound-waves from a radio. Invisible and yet present, calling out desperately in whispering echoes. That die out many times over from being unheard. Have you tried to digest them? Neglect is a lingering ocean of loneliness. It drowns you into the depths of morbid suicide.
You live in a self-contained bubble of cocoon. One formed by your mental shield of phobia. Ever expanding that it fumes into the air filling with invisible clouds of desperation, desolation and despondency. You’re familiar with this intermixed air, that it overpowers rather than to change anything.
Your sleep is disrupted with a flood of insomnia. And yet you let yourself adrift, play along, swarmed through the cracks of your sanity. Seeping through, with gulps of thoughts. It’s rhythm escalates, ringing in your ears. But you listen, allow it to diffuse, expel like your mind was a cube of a room because you’ve been searching for answers. And that moment, away from all the noise and traffic of living souls, seems fitting to listen with an open but occupied mind. De-cyphering heavy streams of clutter. Finding solace by making reasons that deliver soothe to your emotional state.
Your soul is in discord, unsettled from loneliness, panic and dread.
Find your wings.
Let them stem out, be born out from a seed of curiosity. Curiosity is a sign of waking up in search of confirmation. A flashing beam of study, examination. A keen observation. Let them grow out from trembling uncertainty, the frightening darkness that poisons your mind. Purge this ever consuming darkness out from you, like doubt. Than it be converted to prolonged sorrow. And you become engulfed. Paralysed in time. Like staring into blankness with no sense of hope.
You lose your feathers and grow some more. When you lose them you fall, when you grow them you are afloat, just as you do in life. Instead of climbing the ladder, take flight. You’re the pilot of your life.
What keeps you afloat? When you spear-head your fears, with head-on collision with the psychological. Dip all your worries in a bath of acid. Watch them dissolve into nothing, dying out into faint fading echoes, and evaporate. An endless series of nightmares inflate into a bulging balloon and burst to nothing. Like they never existed.
Don’t let the wings of hope be contaminated with dark energy. Let it beam with life. Inspiration keeps you afloat. Words become your wings, and inspirational a constellation of metaphors.
Wings of metaphors, infinite in the mind’s imagination, will carry us.
Find your wings.
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This idea had originated after a discussion with two dear friends, Rianna Shiakh & Martyna Misiak at midnight on Storehouse.
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I contacted a dear, extremely talented friend Guada Molina for the artcover of this blog post on Facebook Messenger at midnight. Am deeply humbled that she agreed instantly. This is also my way of promoting her fantastic imagination. In great support of her, always.
You can follow her phenomenal work on the link below;