artes

Everything will be alright.

Not a day goes by, when I don't feel alien in this skin that is supposed to be mine. This skin doesn't belong in places set by those in power. This skin has to prove its purpose and capabilities to simply exist. The moment you acknowledge it, you condemn yourself to a life of tyranny and suffering.

Everything will be alright.

Your identity becomes such a pretense, you cannot realise where it started, you cannot understand what is real. Questioning becomes so frequent you question your entire existence when you breathe freely for a single second. How can you live with someone else, when you can't live with yourself? Were you ever meant to belong anywhere?

Everything will be alright.

I have heard myself asking “am I temporary to everyone; permanent to myself or permanent to everyone; temporary to myself” Motionless, you feel the rot curling up on your skin, desperate to break free. The world is moving so fucking fast, people are changing so goddamn fast, things are exchanging so terribly fast “there's not enough time, or I'm just wasting my time”, you shout into winds, that will lead where you want to go.

Everything will be alright.

You may not consider yourself to be very good or directionless in your pursuit, but its okay, youre still learning. Trained to be a hardened old soul, your heart is still a cherubin, untouched, and it dares to dream. You are seen, you are loved. Yes, they hurl abuses of confusion and faux disgust, but they never could see the beauty you were able to see in yourself. You've got the whole world in your pocket, child.

Everything will be alright.

Musings of Artes Blackheart. My ode to Daxayoni.