My search for context
“It is easier to be miserable than to feel joy, because no one judges or punishes me for my melancholy. Not even myself.”
When the words run out
”I carry a prison within me; within me is winter, ice and despair; I have darkness in my soul”
Quots from The Hunchback Of Notre Dame
Human beings carry both shadow and radiance.
What sets us apart is the way we witness and tend to the light, the darkness,
and all the trembling shades between.
In the end, is it a symphony we compose —
or only a discord we cannot bear to name?
The animal in me
I had that dream again. You stood in the hallway, umbrella in hand, and tried to decide whether to leave or stay.
Our conversations had been free and honest. Your confiding in me led me to believe that I could do the same. You said you wanted me to let you in, so I did.
But once you saw the animal in me, you retreated. You grabbed your umbrella and fled out in the rain. I woke up hoping you hadn’t.
Story and text by Aix
Night opening
Whenever I have nowhere to go, I come here.
I came here the first time I knew I loved her. I smiled at the realisation, making the cashier at the gas station think I was flirting with her.
I took her here after a night out on town. We were piss drunk, had a hot dog and wished the summer night would go on forever.
I came here the first time she said she loved me, I wanted people to see my bliss.
The first time she screamed at me and pushed me out of her flat, I came here. I looked for pity and hoped that someone would say words of comfort.
I come here now that she is gone; I close my eyes and and remember the way she smiled on the summer night that we thought would go on forever.Story and text by
Night Wanderer
Sometimes it feels like time is merciless
I wished my soul could see all the flowers
***
beware the average man the average woman
beware their love, their love is average
seeks average
but there is genius in their hatred
there is enough genius in their hatred to kill you
to kill anybody
not wanting solitude
not understanding solitude
they will attempt to destroy anything that differs from their own
not being able to create art
***
Part of a poem by Charles Bukowski
I created a room for you in my heart. I locked the door, granting myself exclusive access. I fed you, told you tales, played you songs and made you share your secrets with me. I made sure you were well taken care of.
That’s why it hurt me to find out you wanted to leave. You said you longed for freedom, a secret room you could keep for someone else. For a second I thought of throwing away the key and keeping you in your prison forever. But I released you, hoping that some day you would realise the room in my heart was where you felt the happiest.
Story and text by Calypso
The Confession
It is at my worst that I feel the closest to you. I tell you my sins and you give me forgiveness. I reveal my temptations and you give me your blessing. I tell you about my walks through nine fires of hell and you nurse my wounds. Your attention is all I really crave and I keep erring to keep you occupied with me.
You want me to be good, so you can take pride in your creation. But I keep erring. And you stay occupied.
Story and text Lilith
Self-delusion
I stood on the shore and wondered if the angels were arraving or if they were leaving.
No matter where they were headed, I felt empty and sad, as if everything were my fault.
A secret affair
A thin layer of glass was all that stood between her and the city. When she touched the window, she could feel its vibrating pulse. Millions of heartbeats accompanying the beats of her own heart. She wondered how much they owed the city for being here. In any other city, they might have just walked past each other, remaning strangers in passing.
Now he stood behind her, waiting for her next move. Soon, very soon, she would turn her back on the city and surrender to the moment that awaited. But for just a little while longer, she let herself stand there, feeling the sensation of the before that precedes the completed after.
Text and story by Rochelle
Do not make me lose my face. You may get a another face you don’t like
When the time was a flourishing future
”Orlando, I think you suffer from a strange melancholy. You suffer I advance”
The Prison of Solitude
The impossible passion and love between the butterfly and death.
(Photo and mix media)
Sometimes I feel naked among aliens
(Collage)
The allure of summer
A secret soul
It’s not that I don’t know what you mean when you say you want me to show you everything. I know.
I know sometimes you would rather hear my cries instead of my fiery moans. You would rather see my teared up eyes than my stiff nipples. You would rather stroke my hair than grab my ass.
But you settle for what I offer. A body with a secret soul. Most men would be happy. Yet I know you know that you would be even more satisfied, should I let you see all of me. I know.
Text and story by Rumi
everything is perishable yet we exist outside of time in eternity
The naked sorrow stol all the colors.
Suddenly I had the thought whether I was the observer or whether I was being observed
Through the lens
I found you on the verge of a hill. You sat there with your camera and gazed at the people below. You offered me a seat next to you and explained your project.
After a while, you pointed down and said: ”Hey, look at him.” You gave me your camera so I could see better.
And so we sat there together. Pointing, laughing, gasping at the people and chaos below. We ceised to be two, we were one. The verge of the hill bacame a safe space.
Then one day, you turned your camera towards me and said: ”Hey, look at you.” And all of a sudden, there were two again on the hill. Our unit had ceised to exist.
Text and story by Coco