They say, its always darkest before the dawn. And this is the darkest series I have done so far. It is cathartic for sure, digging right into the pain, uncovering it’s messy nature. So in order to get over this mess, to be able to rise from the abyss all over again, it is necessary to go through all of this.
Happiness is fragile. I imagined it to be a tender blossom and did not dare to touch its buds. I marveled at its lightness like it was not real. But what is real anyways? It’s all in your mind, after all.
There is a hole where my breath used to be. I have nothing more to loose, just the emptiness in there.
I love this poem by Bukowski:
in the sun and in the rain
and in the day and in the night
pain is a flower
pain is flowers
blooming all the time.
― Charles Bukowski