on 19 (the end)
exploring the old and primal fears. on “becoming the sea” and “waiting for the light”.
It’s about waiting for a dawn that never comes. A beautiful orangey-pink sunrise that you have yet to see. I’ve been holding onto those last crumbly bits of teenagehood. The kiddish anticipation that feels eternally bittersweet, and young. I’ve been eating the candy-coated rainbow sprinkles I’ve always hated, out of a specific spite. I buy too-expensive gifts for everyone I love (in an feeble attempt of expression). I’m not quite old enough to give it away so easily (I’ve never been good at letting things go).
I’d rather let the chocolate melt in my hands, as opposed to letting it melt in the stranger’s palms folded across from me.
All those feelings do not just dissappear automatically, but I know eventually they will fade. This is the begginning of that slow death. For that I am thankful and also very scared.
Picture this: A young Nadia Mysteria on the seaside. The classic imagery of a woman on the shore, hair flowing in the wind, the light surrounding her becomes blue and terribly sad. Next to her is a big brown bear. The violent, aggressive, and mean kind of animal. He is a long way from home. Instead of becoming giant and angry, he sits silent. Simply positioned next to her. Silent. He is waiting for the light to no longer look so blue. She expects the sun will peak through the clouds any minute now. All she wants is to finally not be afraid. He expects that feeling to go away any minute now.
