Ingamarra
I’ve had visions for as long as I could remember.
When I was a child, I would receive disorienting images overlayed upon reality. I would see a bright, happy church one moment, then a flash of inferno flames, and then it was as though nothing had happened. The church bells would toll cheerfully, well-dressed townsfolk would walk by, caught in the trivialities of their lives.
My grandmother was also a seer. She was the highest reigning woman in our troupe, second to only father. She tried to teach me to control my visions, but to no avail. They came and went at their own whimsy, like floating ghosts in my ordinary life. Even
I'm not sure how to start this. But I've been told that if I just keep writing, something will happen.
It used to be easy. I could spew out nonsense on demand. I remember exactly how I would do it.
First, I'd form a little seed of an idea. A very condensed, concentrated concept. Then, little by little, I would pull it out and string along a character, a narrative, a way of viewing the world.
But now it's like, through reading and analyzing, I've been made aware of so many more dimensions, so many more ways of thinking and doing things, that I'm at a loss for what to do.
So how do I start this story?
Just be natural, I suppose. Look
In music, there is a certain progression that should be followed. (Well, in the Baroque and Classical era, anyway.) This progression goes something like this: I – IV – V – I. And it sounds something like this: home – moving away – longing for home – home. This is called an authentic cadence. You long for home; you return home.
But there are other cadences, such as a deceptive cadence. It goes something like this: I – IV – V – vi. And it sounds something like this: home – moving away – longing for home – reflective melancholy… Wait what? It’s deceptive because
I'm Beginning to Understand by magic6jewls, literature
Literature
I'm Beginning to Understand
I think I’m beginning to understand
Your love for feet
When she gets nervous
She curls her toes
To make perfect little shells
Like snails
I begin to imagine them
With purple
And yellow stripes
With hazel
And magenta swirls
All the colours
Of daybreak
Evening light
And everything
Mystical
I begin to imagine them
Crawling in a rainstorm
Drinking up the dew
I begin to remember
You
Trying to convey
Just why you like feet
But I think
I’m beginning to understand
Does Anger Come From Entitlement? by magic6jewls, literature
Literature
Does Anger Come From Entitlement?
Does anger come from entitlement?
Because after you left, I haven't gotten angry at you half as much as before. No, not even a quartre as much. I suppose because I haven't the right.
You did not leave me out of spite or chagrin. You were tired. And I cannot be upset if you merely left out of exhaustion. I cannot be upset at anyone.
At first, I felt like you had extinguished my flame. And I was angry. Which is funny, since being angry only proves how fiery I am. But then, I realized I was tending my own flame. Softly, giving light and warmth to my world.
How I hoped you would come by. So I could give you a little of that flame. But you did
Sometimes it's kind of a relief when a relationship ends. At least now I know it won't work. At least now I could move on.
Sometimes I wish you'd just die. So I could accept this is over, and move on. Sometimes I think even if you die, I'll probably keep on loving you anyway.
Sometimes, I don’t know if I’m awake or asleep.
When we just wake up in the morning, when our mind is still filled with our dream, we think life is a dream. Nothing in life is real, because our dream is real.
Sometimes when I just fall asleep, I’m so convinced this dream is reality. But obviously, it isn’t. It’s a dream.
Sometimes I think I love you. I imagine loving you for a long time yet. I imagine I will wait, and one day you’ll return.
Then, there are times when I realize I cannot love you. We are so different! You left me! It’s over! And I think I don’t love you.
Sometimes, I don̵
When I did not love you by magic6jewls, literature
Literature
When I did not love you
When I did not love you
I longed to love you
When I did love you
I longed to not
Constantly,
I see all around me
What we were
Are
Could be
And never will be
Constantly,
I hope
Wish
Despair
Believe
Even now
I know not what I want
Except to show you my heart
And although I love you still
Today
I long to not
A little less