Happy Turmoil

When the wind calls us to sift between sand and limestone for a purpose, it is trial that guides us through weathered skin and dry eyes. When purpose calls for a kind of love lost in the sea of time, the end bestows it in a chilling embrace. When love calls for change, we are informed only when we are caught in a crossfire.

As seeds, we grow, painfully breaking out of our shells. Its shards pull us apart, shedding histories to make way for new markings. Where wounds clot, stories are kept beneath. Where stories fade, nothing lasts.

When nothing ever lasts nor stays, infinity records.

--

--

--

hallucinating on command.

Love podcasts or audiobooks? Learn on the go with our new app.

Recommended from Medium

Carnival in Rio

But I Hope You Do

Nature’s Nature

Real Fakeness

A Letter To An Unknown Smile!

We Are All Dodging COVID Bullets

Always Another Way

Get the Medium app

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store
thanatomania.

thanatomania.

hallucinating on command.

More from Medium

Meet Molly

most ignored aspect of physique transformation ever

A Sales Pitch “I have done what you are trying to do.”

A handwritten $1,000,000 check… a unicorn in the fundraising world.