Do you ever see fire smoldering in the eyes of people, burning like a pendulum of insecurities and silenced passions? Their pupils dilate and enlarge as if they are controlled by the marionette of society experienced in pyrokinesis. Their eyes are volcanos coerced to become pet candles. Vertigo on a leash, a tsunami in an aquarium.
Do you ever hear them say, “okay so” and unbox their priceless passions in words at 2.5 x speed? It reminds me of grandmas opening their precious box of spices , and empty beaches before tidal waves. Excuse me for interrupting you but the way you unleash your dreams makes the Earth burn and turn on its axis.
Then, they stop and mumble a sorry and display a sheepish grin for getting lost in the wonderland of their ambitions, the flames start dying. Their hands are paper cups and dreams leak out of the bottom, injected with drips that make them caged puppets of society. They watch opportunities knock on their window and wave them as they go by. Birds born in cages think flying is an illness even if their entire body is itching to flap the unfamiliar wings. They are devils forced to transform into saints.
Sometimes it feels like pouring your fragments into a kaleidoscopic blackhole, as if you are being stripped away from your passions and the universe has told you to keep a finger on your lips. How do you forgive yourself for the things you didn’t become? How do you continuously refill yourself when society wants to empty you every time?
One day, they will break down and it will feel like falling out of a plane because when everything is already lost, there is nothing to lose. The candles will erupt into a cannibal volcano, the tsunami will drown the puppet strings because their passions are positive ions charging the lightening of their hearts.
They will become the chaos you yearn to thrive in. You will finally realize why the sky screams and why well-fed devils are better than famished saints.
//”Storm Hearts”// Enigma
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Picture Credits: Enigma (Inktober 2020 Art Day 17 Storm)