color

9/1/2015 – Day Eighteen.

I didn’t think I would make it.

If I had to be completely honest, I wasn’t sure I wanted too. I counted down the days dreading this trip. Then before I knew it, I was pleading to stay. It doesn’t make much sense to run from one chaos toward another. Running away just adds more to the wanderlust, instead of satisfying this hunger of leaving. It’s watching all the darkness in my life transform into different shades of color, instead of variations of black and grey.

I am not ready to leave. I am not ready to return to familiarity. I am not ready to state how I feel to the faces that believe they know me best. Maybe I’ll never be ready. How often can you hide from the world and remain in this hidden bliss. Where no one knows what is going on, because you keep your feelings hidden so efficiently.  If I stay here any longer, I’ll be hiding forever. If I leave now, I have to admit that I am not okay. Going away doesn’t change your problems, it just hides them with better scenery. I am running out of time. Running out of resources to get me out of this mystified existence. Its good to go home. Going home to regroup and start right back all over again. Back to the people who know me best and want nothing but what is best for me. Everything happens for a reason. Even goodbyes are never really forever. I just feel rushed. If only I could just jump back into that mind frame. Jump into these good intentions wrapped with best wishes. But I can’t.

I stand tall on the rooftops staring down at landscapes. At the countless rooftops of these buildings in my memory. I could draw this scenery with my eyes closes. How the storms have settled and gave way to the clear skies that lie in front of me. The wind in my hair and I don’t want to go home but I know I have to. With my bags packed, everything organized and placed in its right place. But home doesn’t feel much like home when you’re gone. Home is just where my things are but its not where my heart lies. Its not where the wind blows straight through me, into my bones cutting me to the core. I can paint my smile, watch the planes come and go, but they don’t lead me home. I don’t know where home is and sitting in chairs people have sat before me, I am not getting close to it.

 

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Color.

Life has a way of putting you through the wringer and back. To the extent that your vision becomes clouded by haziness. You stop looking for an excuse to look for color and become fixated on the dreary and the drab. All color is, is an excuse to burn brightly into happiness. When all you want to do is sink beneath the depths of darkness. Becoming emotionally attached to colors so dark that it would burn a hole straight to your soul. When you’re hurting all you want is for the world to mimic your same emotion. Become a backdrop to your own misery. Transitioning from the grays to slates and into the dark black night sky. Those are all the colors you want to see. Something emotionally profound that only your broken soul could understand.

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Its the darkness with it’s smoke and mirrors. Illusions causing reflections of our own inner sadness that transcends into our waking day. This storm setting of overcast skies that causes everything to read in black and white. My soul only understands the darkness. The darkness that harbors my sadness better than I ever could. I’ve had my fair share of misery. I’ve basked in the glory of my own self pity and darkness. All I wanted to see was everything in dark tragic colors. It became my only way to communicate to the world. Through my own self reflections, I wanted my outsides to reflect my insides. To purge out my pain with the darkest of colors I could think of. Not an ounce of color. Not even a single strand. My vision sees the color but my thoughts only see in black and white and grays and slates.

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Pain has a way of chipping away at the things that you love the most. Turning everything you once loved into an array of things you start to despise. You could point the blame on everyone but find yourself blaming yourself for your own unhappiness. This hurt that suffocates and squeezes at your insides and takes away any ounce of light. Its the light that you reach out for to save you from this darkness. The light that can turn the dark skies brightly shined by the moonlight. The light that can illuminate a thousand stars to lead you home. When you’re ready to change, the colors start coming to you slowly. First you watch the stars illuminate your path and realize that the sky as black as night is really a darkest shade of blue. When you wake you start to notice the flowers start to bloom and you watch the colors they have been hibernating inside. As your sadness starts chipping away you start embracing the colors that surround you. You look forward to sunrises and sunsets. You start looking forward to daylight as you once looked forward to the night.

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You start screaming away the pain in color. Screaming out the vibrant blues and vivid greens. Reaching out to touch the colors just as they were painted for you to see. You start to wonder what was so great about sadness. What harbored all this darkness that made you pay no mind to the color that you see before you. Most days are longer than others. Most days you wrap yourself up with different shades of the colors from your memory and other days you can’t seem to cooperate with the daylight. Some days are easier than others. Some days you wake up and fill your heart with every pure emotion you feel. You project your outsides just as you feel your insides with a vibrancy of color that you feel. Other days you watch yourself strip away the color and return to the darkness that you harbored so carefully. But its no longer a burden for you. Its no longer something you keep trapped away for no one to see. Instead you start to realize that stars can’t shine without a little darkness. Days aren’t suppose to be easy but eventually one day you’ll understand everything.

Everything starts with a little color. Color blooming from every corner of your atmosphere. Some days are better than others. Some days get harder but eventually one day you’ll be okay. The colors will always be there to guide you home. Guiding your darkest days into the light. You just have to see it illuminate your way. You’ll get there.

I promise.