I never used to say the whole truth to anyonethere are times,I never used to say the whole truth to anyone by ~BluestWaves
some times, when I miss you.
Even if you're just 30 blocks away (a little more, maybe)
I could take a bus and see you again,
but I still miss you. Like I got used to things being
the way they're not any more.
I used to never say the whole truth.
I think I learnt it from someone,
that if you keep something to yourself, just a sliver, maybe nonesense,
that tiny bit of knowledge gives you power.
If I think about it now,
it's a silly kind of power.
staying up late when everyone thinks you're sleeping.
The thing is I don't want that with you,
when you're away, doesn't matter how far, you're away enough.
I don't want stupid bracketed information to make that further.
Truth is, I still keep many secrets from people around me
because I'm still childish and what,
maybe I'll never change.
Except. Except with you,
because I sometimes remember what it was like to miss you,
and sometimes I still miss you,
But though you know it I
aqua de vitaHer fingers are stained with wax.aqua de vita by ~BluestWaves
In the stillness, it is not so awkward to be fumbling like she is with the corkscrew. In the stillness, it is not so surreal for her to be trying to uncork a bottle of –oh, the irony- rum.
The clock ticks, and he won’t be back. Hopefully.
The bottle comes to her lips, and alcohol burns down her throat. Soon, the room is spinning and it smells like wet wood and lamp oil… funny, isn’t it? There is no lamp there, only an old, thick vigil candle that should stop dying soon. She has still time, though, it will hold some more minutes, and it’d be enough. To burn the invitation. To fake ignorance, or better, to run away. But she can’t. Where to?
She’ll maybe then close her eyes, instead, and wish the one who would come in soon, away.
The door opens with a creak, though, and the breeze puts the candle out.
“There you be, my dear. And perfect. Stand up now,” he says, through yellow teeth and voice like
Warning to a Sea-Creaturebeware of men that will leave youWarning to a Sea-Creature by ~BluestWaves
to find themselves,
because they find themselves;
and then it's your turn to leave.
Beware of men that look like iceland,
feel like iceland,
because they're so white and far away,
but when spring comes it fills their forests with plantlife.
You're usually only water.
of men that feel caged when they're caged,
they share the wanderlust and may or maynot
whisk you away.
And because there is no map hidden in your pulse,
you only have your heart to guide you,
that is why beware the most
of men who follow stars.
god sent no signI saw the sun sinking,god sent no sign by ~BluestWaves
far behind the world and the moon;
and thought somewhere the sky must be melting.
He was a mad man on the roof,
watching the sun sink behind the skyline of the city,
thinking that somewhere, somewhere there must be a horizon.
Every morning he woke up from hazelike dreams
and when he went to sleep,
he only saw constellations.
And he thought that he was naked in the dust,
that he had nothing.
and when I went to sleep
and when I woke up
there must be a place where the horizon rises,
because infinity must be more than the skyline of a flatland.
and I wished to climb to the roof of the Earth,
and see what God sees every morning,
and every evening-
- creation and destruction,
But then the edge of the world will come to an end,
I'll look up to a thousand satellites crashing,
and ask him why it is he thought he was empt
A journal post to explain it all, and then I let you wander in the ice, and hope that, some day, you'll come back to tell me your story.
seven days of beach
From [February 23, 2012] to [March 1, 2012]
eastern berlin series
A whimsical collection of shots derived from self-prompts, using titles of popular deviations on deviantART's main page, from [May 18, 2012] to [June 8, 2012]; dealing with break-up, heartbreak, Scandinavian pop music, empty apartments; and the inevitable process of self-reinvention.
the iceland series
"he said he had survived many winters..."
Part I (he looked like iceland) bluestwaves.deviantart.com/art…
Part II (polarity) bluestwaves.deviantart.com/art…
Part III (Navigator) bluestwaves.deviantart.com/art…
Part IV (knight) bluestwaves.deviantart.com/art…
Part V (corium)
Part VI (dusk) bluestwaves.deviantart.com/art…
Part VII (Navigator II) bluestwaves.deviantart.com/art…
dolls and art and life and death and the sea behind my eyelids and a thousand voodoo huts; all revolting around the scent of the wilderness, dancing at the edge of the end of the world.
the most beautiful thing anyone has ever written for meOnce I Followed HerOnce I Followed Her
I remember looking at her walking slowly on the road, flanked by snowy hills and frost-ridden trees and grasses. Curious and intrigued, I followed her down the cold road. She was daydreaming, I could see it in her eyes, her hands, the way she walked holding on to her bike beside her. I smiled as she past by me, her eyes staring at the ground in an attempt to protect her face from the biting north winds. She was so sweet, it’s just like her to find herself walking against the freezing wind.
She walked for miles, ice crunching under her feet. I followed, close by, sometimes walking behind her, other times running ahead of her, looking back every now and again. Then, having noticed the wind giving way, she stopped by an abandoned, broken fence by the road. Or was it a bench, I couldn’t say. She sighed softly, her warm breath condensing in white, cloudlike vapor in front of her. She looked around, and when our faces crossed paths, I realized just how much I