"Here is my secret. It is very simple: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.."- Antoine de Saint Exupéry

Archive for August 1, 2013

PLAY

Who told you that I forgot how to play? That’s right, I never forgot. And neither did you.

Hereby I open my own challenge. Every week on Thursday I will post a picture and invite you all, if you wish, to comment with a text of maximum 100 words – or the link to your blog containing the post and the picture.

There are no other prizes than the pure fun of writing together.

Have fun and play! 😀

Ela

drag queen

They look at you, but do they ever really see who you are?

All those bitter years when they have bullied you and hit you, mutilated you and injured you, all those years have only made your inner strength grow. You do know completely who you are and what you cannot stand to be anymore. Controlled. Humiliated. Abused. Scared.

No, all that pain was enough. It is time to break free. And you are free. And you are beautiful, no matter what they say. Does your body matter so much? Or is this beauty just your soul finally shining through?

———————————————————————————————————————————–

100 words, memyselfandela – August 2013


Textures

Birth of the Red Star copy Blue Eyes heart of roses


Psalm

po

mute words speak
for the tears in my soul,
so You take them,
make them a river,
make my heart a stone,
crush me, make me a pot
to burn all the pain.

33 words, memyselfandela – August 2013


300

55a544642b35756f155e5bd2ae01f06a

Her arms open like the wings of a butterfly as she draws colors nobody has ever lived. People pass her by, but stop for a moment to see the shade of sadness hidden in her broken gypsy smile. People come and go while she imagines universes turning round and round like ticking clocks spinning in the tip of her lost apostle finger, while she tries to recreate out of color and dust the lost paradise. Lost like her thoughts, lost on an island that she never reached, a place where her heart would find finally a breath of rest.

420

Her dress, her black dress, she hated it so. She hated how it made her feel. She hated how he made her feel. She hated all she tried to be for him. She hated that she loved him. She hated to see him write about that dress, using her presence as an inspiration for his stories and phantasies, while she was bleeding inside. She hated him and all the women he was talking to, she hated him with the same passion she has once loved him. Her dress was black that night, mourning for her broken heart and wasted love.

Driftwood-beach1

I have died one night. I have only died so I can learn how to fly. And my greatest dream was to fly over the sea to you. On the beach, where you lay your body and shadow, I rest my head next to you. I try to feel the warmth of your bare feet but I can’t anymore. I try to lay my body next to you, but you don’t even see me there. Yet I look at you, breathing and gazing far away, and the light that fills up your soul flows through me too. And I smile.
—————————————————————————————————-

300 words, memyselfandela – August 2013


Royal Horticultural Society Garden Wisley (6)

IMG_5629 IMG_5630 - Copy IMG_5636 - Copy IMG_5637 - Copy IMG_5640 - Copy IMG_5641 - Copy IMG_5642 - Copy IMG_5644 - Copy IMG_5645 - Copy IMG_5646 - Copy IMG_5648 - Copy IMG_5649 - Copy IMG_5651 - Copy IMG_5655 IMG_5657 IMG_5661 IMG_5662 IMG_5663 IMG_5665 IMG_5668 IMG_5671 IMG_5673 IMG_5674 IMG_5675 IMG_5677 IMG_5680 IMG_5688 IMG_5695 IMG_5696 IMG_5699 IMG_5700 IMG_5701 IMG_5702 IMG_5707 IMG_5708 IMG_5711 IMG_5713 IMG_5714 IMG_5716 IMG_5717Photos memyselfandela, July 2013