Sowmya

“... so this is for us.
This is for us who sing, write, dance, act, study, run and love
and this is for doing it even if no one will ever know
because the beauty is in the act of doing it.
Not what it can lead to.
This is for the times I lose myself while writing, singing, playing
and no one is around and they will never know
but I will forever remember
and that shines brighter than any praise or fame or glory I will ever have,
and this is for you who write or play or read or sing
by yourself with the light off and door closed
when the world is asleep and the stars are aligned
and maybe no one will ever hear it
or read your words
or know your thoughts
but it doesn’t make it less glorious.
It makes it ethereal. Mysterious.
Infinite.
For it belongs to you and whatever God or spirit you believe in
and only you can decide how much it meant
and means
and will forever mean
and other people will experience it too
through you.
Through your spirit. Through the way you talk.
Through the way you walk and love and laugh and care
and I never meant to write this long
but what I want to say is:
Don’t try to present your art by making other people read or hear or see or touch it; make them feel it. Wear your art like your heart on your sleeve and keep it alive by making people feel a little better. Feel a little lighter. Create art in order for yourself to become yourself
and let your very existence be your song, your poem, your story.
Let your very identity be your book.
Let the way people say your name sound like the sweetest melody.

So go create. Take photographs in the wood, run alone in the rain and sing your heart out high up on a mountain
where no one will ever hear
and your very existence will be the most hypnotising scar.
Make your life be your art
and you will never be forgotten.”
― Charlotte Eriksson, Another Vagabond Lost To Love: Berlin Stories on Leaving & Arriving

“I will be the gladdest thing under the sun! I will touch a hundred flowers and not pick one.”
― Edna St. Vincent Millay

“Magic existed in his eyes, his energy as he lived his daily life. I could fall into his soul and lay my worries to rest, but if by chance this happened; it wouldn't last the test.
because there's much to learn, before we can meet, I want to collide with his heart; allow our souls to fleet.
His arms will hold my fears, but he won't carry the load; as it is my lesson to love myself, and find my own sense of hope.
When we cross our paths, our knowledge will last the test; as patience fills the air and our burdens are put to rest,
I will honour my truth, and seek what I desire; ever lasting love and passion set on fire.”
― Nikki Rowe

“Everything is temporary,
almost like a passing fase,
some of laughter
Some of pain.
What we would do,
If we had the chance to explore
What we had taken for
Granted the very day before,
Some would say I'm selfish,
To hold a little sadness in my eyes,
But they don't feel the sorrow
When I can't do,
all that helps me feel alive.
I can express my emotions,
but I can't run wild and free,
My mind and soul would handle it
but hell upon my hip, ankle and knees,
This disorder came about,
as a friendship said its last goodbyes,
Soooo this is what I got given for all the years I stood by?
I finally stand still to question it, life it is in fact?
What the fuck is the purpose of it all if you get stabbed in the back?
And after the anger fills the air, the regret takes it places,
I never wanted to be that girl,
Horrid, sad and faded...
So I took with a grain of salt,
my new found reality,
I am not of my pain,
the disability doesnt define me.
I find away to adjust,
also with the absence of my friend,
I trust the choices I make,
allow my heart to mend.
I pick up the pieces
I retrain my leg,
I find where I left off
And I start all over again,
You see what happens...
When a warrior gets tested;
They grow from the ashes
Powerful and invested.
So I thank all this heartache,
As I put it to a rest,
I move forward with my life
And I'll build a damn good nest.”
― Nikki Rowe