friendships

Talking sh*t about a pretty sunset.

I am a sucker for sunsets. Where the colors of the sky blend chaotically into the atmosphere. Where the fades of sky blues tarnish into the clouds to form bright pinks to luscious violets and transition with their oranges into the dark skies we see at night. Maybe I am the only one that sees it that way. Watching this transformation of color just happen before my eyes.  The more I try and explain myself, the more people point out the flaws and dismantle the sunset that I love. Colors of sunsets are a lot like dreams, everyone has their own perception of them. No matter how many times a person puts their two cents in about color, I can’t help but feel they have it all wrong. Everyone wants this picturesque sunset to photograph and show the world. To mark it up to their own perspection of beauty and edit out all the flaws. The more they capture the more they turn it around and change it. Editing reality you take away the beauty of it all. Flaws and all.

IMG_1148

Maybe we are going about it all wrong. Taking pictures of the sky doesn’t give the sky it’s beautiful justice. The colors that are sketched into my mind never show up as beautiful as I photograph them. Wouldn’t it be amazing if we could photograph the sky without the need of digital devices? No sunset looks as beautiful as it exist in my memory. No sunset can be photographed to its picturesque perfection. Why do I bother explaining the things I love, when someone is going to come around and change everything? You can’t put a filter on my sunsets and tell me that this is what you see. You can’t tell me that life as you photograph it is what I am suppose to see. I find myself allowing others fears and perception of beauty filter into my own ideas. I find myself wanting to change the things I once loved all for the sake of finding something beautiful. I can drive myself crazy trying to change every single one of the flaws but in the end its the imperfections that make everything so damn beautiful.

IMG_8711

 

Nostalgia always has a way of letting us down. Every once in a while people will find a way to let you down and break you heart. Sunsets will come and go and all you’re left with are all the colors they leave behind in your memory. Sometimes staring up at the sky is better than staying asleep and dreaming. Dreams are only real in your memory but sunsets are fucking there for the taking. Don’t allow anyone else’s perceptions of your reality change what you see. Then again what do I know, sunsets are just sunsets. Colors are just as over exaggerated as our dreams. Sometimes people are right, maybe the sunset that I see is in the wrong placement of everything I want. Maybe the colors that I see aren’t as important as what anyone else sees. Who knows. All I care about is feeling something other than nothing. Seeing the colors for everything they are worth, there for my amusement. I’ll never find the perfect sunset everyone claims exists. Maybe I am wrong for loving all the things that I do but for what it’s worth, I still fall in love every time I look up at the sky as the sun sets. That’s all I could ever ask for, falling in love with colors before the darkness hits. It’s through color that we truly believe in ourselves, it’s before the dark that we reach for the light again.  That’s all I could ever want.

IMG_9042

 

 

Talking shit about a pretty sunset
Blanketing opinions that I’ll probably regret soon
I’ve changed my mind so much I cant even trust it
My mind changed me so much I cant even trust myself

Advertisements

Left and Leaving.

I am afraid of Goodbyes, which has made it hard for me to let go. Holding on to things long after the after glow. It should be easy to be done and over with it all, but I keep coming back for more. Waiting for people to change, waiting for everything and the in-between. I can change everything else in my life but I can’t change the feeling of letting someone go. Holding on to the nostalgia of different times when things really mattered, realizing it never really mattered at all.

Why does it always happen to me? Am I not enough? Don’t you care enough to stay?

People are so self consumed in there own misery to notice you. I am no stranger to that. But when you need something you call on me, I always listen. It’s only when you need me around that you can find me. It’s been months since communication stopped and still you need me around. It’s hard letting go to the people that only need you sometimes. The flood of memories surrounding you don’t out weigh the outcome. If I bleed, would you even notice? If I said I needed you, would you bother to be there? We are all in the market to use someone. We make friends to legions and flocks of people, just to use from them all their resources. Needing something from everybody. Occupy our time with the expectations of a good time. I can’t pretend that it doesn’t hurt when people forget me. I can’t pretend that no matter how many times I try, It’s just not enough. Who am I to compete with the beautiful and damned? Who am I to say that feeling alone is never really lonely?

If I was perfect, people would want me. If I had everything you needed, people would need me. If I hadn’t said all the things I said, people would care enough to listen to my story. People can go into silence and pretend that memories are just ghost stories of the past. Maybe that’s all I am, a funny story of the past. Something you tell yourself to feel better about the past. When you’ve dried up your last resource is when people come back. I wish I could be that person for you. That I didn’t feel like just another photograph that you filter out the imperfections. Some days it hurts and some days its easier to forget people. Thats all I am trying to do, have the courage to forget people. Making the goodbyes, easier to say.

For the first time I didn’t feel like inviting you out. I stopped including you in my stories. I stopped planning adventures and asking you to go. If I pretend you don’t exist, it makes it hurt less. Maybe all silence ever is, is a softer way of leaving and letting go.  I watched the memories turn to dust and replaced them with something shiny and new. It’s after you are left alone that the leaving becomes easier. If it wasn’t for me to reach out, I wouldn’t be in this mess to begin with. All we need is to be alone with our thoughts to finally grow up and let go. I find myself becoming a grown up. I am growing up, as much as I wish I wasn’t. We all are, even you. I just wish I could see it all through.

2/4/2015