My throat filled with fluid, reaching down my body. Keeping me down, leaving me fighting to get to the shore. In futile. Left paralysed, as my body is submerged under water. My body smothered with water, immersing deeply into the well of hollowness with no way to flee. “No. Help” I hear myself scream. The bleak darkness drowning, flooding me into a sinking void. “Please. Stop it” I hoarsely whisper, spiralling in and out of consciousness, trying to escape. My closed eyes swarming with bright light, leaving me momentarily hazed. My body tightening, seizing as I have become delirious. Feeling uncontrollable as my chest constricts with my throat compressed into knots unable to bring in oxygen. “Stop. Stop” I inwardly whisper, needing to leave this hellish trance. Beams of intense luminosity emerging in my vision. Glowing, brown eyes alighting, their breath exhaling. Yielding my body to arch, the heaviness of my chest relinquishing in sync with their breathing. Immersing me into calmness, oxygen coming back to me as my throat clears. The illuminating, brown eyes rising, providing tranquillity. Serenity washes over me as the feminine voice lulls “breathe” in a hushed murmur. “Breathe” the soft voice repeats again. My eye flashing open, unblinkingly staring at the naked walls, sweat gathering around my forehead and body. With a fast-beating heart and heavy breathing, I get out of bed and into the bathroom. Splashing water on my face, washing away the last remnants of the nightmare.
Anxiousness simmering inside my body, adrenaline bursting through my veins as I walk to my makeshift painting area. The blank canvas mimicking the end of the dream, creating the image that surfaced in my dream. Itching with dire need to be released and created. The dark sky, transforming into early morning with birds chirping. Not with the times and hours, as I sunk myself into running away from the hallucinating illusion. Turning the heaviness that is left in my body into a state of peace. Finishing the touches of the latest painting I have curated. With the rest of my paintings already in the gallery I am prepared for the exhibition. As I brush the last stroke, I step back exhaling at the wonder that my eyes lay on. As I let it sit for two hours, I begin to shower and get ready to convince the head curator to put this forward with the rest of the art.
Taking an uber to the gallery, my mind lingers on the stranger women I had the seconds with, lightly hoping I will bump into her again. Somehow not being able to forget. Walking with intention as I have reached the entrance, I see Miguel dressed in colourful clothing, an open chested red shirt, black artisan blazer and trousers with unique designs. Miguel was a European Spanish man whom I have met in New York art exhibition in my art gallery. Within seconds we hit it off, talking about the arts culture, our favourite artists and collections. Since then we have stayed in contact with each other and maintained a friendship relation.
He greets me with enthusiastic arm movements as soon as he sees me, eyeing the black bag in my hand. “I need this piece to be included in the exhibition” I demand bluntly. Miguel stares at me, piercing me with emotionless eyes that wants to tell me off for a cold welcome. But he needs to know my seriousness when I don’t have time to play nice. He signals for me to follow him, heading to his office upstairs. Once we have reached, he closed the door behind me, I lay the bag on the empty table, unravelling the painting for Miguel’s eyes. He stands beside me, taking in a sharp breath, without saying another word he turns towards me “is this who I think it is” he questions. Knowing what his underlying words mean “yes” I utter, “this needs to be in the exhibition, it completes the collection perfectly” I continue. With Miguel in deep thought, I shake away the jitters that comes with being patient, suddenly sighing in admission he says “okay, we can make adjustments. She must be beautiful, for you to be bothered like this” he jokes, but his eyes reflecting respect. Miguel was a person who embraced vulnerability, he never let the ego drive him into making his decisions, he enjoyed being in companies that think alike and who are not crippled by their ego, their identity and not being afraid of humanly feelings and desires. So, with him knowing who this was and me wanting to show this painting in public, he valued me and even more so, this friendship because of it.
Taking the painting in his hand, we go downstairs to the floor of the exhibition, placing it in the focal point of the collection, the centre wall. “Do you oppose” he prompts with one raised eyebrow.
“No, absolutely not” I affirm, feeling accomplished knowing the last art had finalised the collection.
Going back to my hotel suite, I make a start to get ready with spending the whole of afternoon in the gallery, preparing and organising the event, time flew by me. With Miguel picking me up for the evening, I pour myself a drink to remove the apprehensiveness that are rising.
Walking into the gallery, bustling with people and photographers. Grabbing champagne in the entryway, studying those who are looking at the art. The best part about being an artist and establishing your painting in art galleries is the anonymity from publicity. With painters, artists, art investors recognising you due to the close-knit community we have formed for ourselves. Diving right in as I start to talk leisurely with interested customers, negotiating prices with their likened art, positive feelings of success surging as one art had been sold. Long black hair in my peripheral vision convincing myself that it is not real and only imaginations that exist from my dream. Informing the staff that this painting has been sold, they begin to discuss buying the art with the costumers. The long-haired stranger stopping at the latest painting, moving closer and deeply analysing it. With my focus strained, I begin to watch her, her form, her skin and the stunning dress pulling me to her place. Instinctively, my feet walk towards her, eyeing the way she moves closer to the painting. Stopping just behind her inhaling a waft of her flowery, vanilla scent “No, it can’t be” I internally whisper to myself. Out of all places. She is here, knowing she felt my presence I move backwards only for her to turn around and bump into me.
Helping to balance her, I place my hand on her lower back. Silky smooth skin burning my fingers alive. Her scent engulfing me, her wide eyes blinking back at me in recognition and in shock. “We need to stop meeting like this” I mutter light-heartedly with a grin, simmering the feelings wanting to surface. “My name is Ezra” I prompt, waiting for her to speak.
She pushes back to maintain distance, “My name is Luna” she begins “you need to stop appearing where I can’t see you” she says. She studies me curiously. Looking at the person who inspired my painting, her alluring, mesmerising eyes, opening her mouth in futile as her words become unspoken.
“This painting was inspired by you” I mumble, “from the last time I saw you to now, I was not able to forget you. You came up in my dreams and you are what I painted. I want you.” I utter in hushed tone.
(Another part. Couldn’t help myself. Writing this got me excited of the prospects. I’m proud of the characters that are coming alive. Writings from a current story. Thank you for reading 😀 ).
Connections happen slowly, sinking within every inch of your soul.
Connections happen in an instant, sparks shooting through your veins.
Staying in your mind, leaving you guessing how and why you’ve met them.
Wanting more of their presence.
What do I get with you entering my life the way you did?
Is this destiny? Is this fate? Is this circumstantial? Was it created by coincidences?
Was it to learn? Was it to heal?
The cosmos aligning two souls, meeting each other for the first time, however it maybe.
The living being, enveloping you into a world where it is just you and him. No judgement, where happiness lives within us. His body providing you with warmth, security, and comfort. His skin against your skin electrifying the air surrounding you, your body feeling alive.
How they can leave with a blink of an eye.
The small moments that you lived with him, you rewind in your mind like a broken record. Holding onto him because you know there is no-one like him.
How it never matters for the distance for, your soul and his soul are intertwined together. You feel him around you, his presence consuming you, your heart longing for him.
Catching yourself daydreaming, wondering how his day is going, is he okay? What is he doing at this moment? Hoping he is safe and well, wanting to experience living in his world just once.
Wondering if he is doing the same too….
(This is a segment part of a creative writing I am currently doing. Had the urge to share it. Much Love, Konijja)
The rhythm of the ocean swayed gently into the shore. The soft, tender breeze caressed my face. The cool wind quietly swallowed my loud mind. My feet pillowed the smooth sand, the water mirroring my pained reflection. My eyes magnified the troubled soul that wanted to let out the cries, wanting to be heard, wanting to be felt.
I dreamt of living near the ocean, to live in a place where I could be in solitude, living in the silence and being surrounded by Earth’s nature. For wishing that the first thing I wake up to is the sight of the ocean, and the last vision that my eyes see before entering a dreamless state is the sight of the ocean.
I walked back towards my home. The well-lit up lanterns on both of the pillars on my front porch provided a dimly lit glow, walking up the steps and opening the door to be welcomed with sweet heaven. Living alone had provided me with safety I have never felt, the comfort I seek, in not relying on anybody but myself. Looking at the place that I have created, the spacious opening. The airy space of this house had me hooked and captivated by its beauty, for the crisp sounds of the ocean echoing into my home, an instant lull of peace. My safe haven, my healer. Breathing in and exhaling, living within the atmosphere of Earth’s nature, the cleanliness of the cooling air, the autumn breeze giving me goosebumps, the little hairs on my arms standing up. Gazing at the open space of the ground floor. The bright shades of whites and greys opened the house, the simplicity of my home allowing my mind to breathe, bringing harmony to my soul and spirit. Walking down the hallway, up the stairs, through the expansive hallway with walls that are filled with my favourite people, decorated with personal art, and down the corridor to my bedroom. The glass interior allowed the first glance to be the picturesque, serene view of the water that the night sky accompanies. The full moon was a hint of pink leaving me breathless at the sheer beauty of the visionary sight, the lunar moon is a sight to behold as I gaze at the glimpses of differing shades of grey. The gleaming, shimmering stars illuminating the darkness, beautifying the sky with its glistening celestial galaxies. Pure heaven.
I laid on the bed, pulling the duvet over my body, bringing myself in a straight position lying on my back, I dread the moment when sleep should take over me. The memories, thoughts, the emotions that want attention, wanting to surface into my consciousness overpowering me. I dread the moments of nightfall. The tides of the ocean lulling me into drowsiness.
“There is peace in acceptance” I whisper
“I am not identified with pain” I utter.
“My suffering does not make me who I am” I affirm.
“I am okay” I speak.
Yet, the tears begin to roll down my cheeks into my hairline, the flow of tears rushing down my face. Turned to my sides, with my knees up and a hunched back, squeezing the side of my pillow into the shape of a fist. The hot tears continuously streamed down my face, my body shaking along with the waves of the heaving tears, wheezing until I become breathless with sore skin. It has always been like this, for years the void in my soul getting heavier, deepening into my being disappearing into an abyss, into emptiness. Overcome with sleep, my eyes begin to close, as sleep takes over me, silencing me into a subconscious trance. Before swimming into unconsciousness, “Save me.” I murmur, unknowingly mumbling the words that have shifted my whole goddamn world.
(Thank you for reading. This is a prologue for a passion project. Hope you have enjoyed what is written so far. Much Love, Konijja)
Ego. I have been thinking about this word, the meaning and significance it holds. Ego defined as “your idea or opinion of yourself especially your feeling of your own importance and ability.” When having a growing relationship with myself, the more I choose love and peace. Having an egoic mind is becoming farther away, where superficiality can never belong in pure and true energies. I have grown farther away from ego and embraced vulnerability, in living within love and peace.
Ego is driven by destruction and devastation. Ego is led by hatred, resentment and revenge; deeply negative induced energies that goes against the grain of living in harmony and love.
From existing within the society, the identifications we have given ourselves, the labels, beliefs, ideations/concepts. When living in a society that has created divide between us and our mind identifications on how we see ourselves, our reactions when it comes to life situations, our behaviour, thoughts and emotions. How ego creates a bridge between humanity and oneness. Having an egoic mind stimulates harm and suffering, distancing oneself deeply away from living in consciousness.
Ego causes more suffering, it hurts us more than it protects us from life situations. What we identify with, the significance that one’s beliefs hold, morals and values truly has no importance when it comes to love and peace, the fundamentals of our being, in being.
Sometimes our prides are our enemies, living in our minds and creating an attachment to words, thoughts, feelings is what heightens a barrier when it comes to experiencing life, saying yes to life and accepting love and peace. In accepting or embracing what is.
Where there is love, there is no ego. When living in peace, you can’t be attached to your ego. Superficiality does not belong within the energies living in purity. Man made concepts does not live within true living energies. Just like happiness does not live in sadness; life does not live in death; love does not live in agony; peace does not live in disharmony.
Where do I even begin…. this was something I was struggling to wrap my head around since the idea of thinking about relationships/marriage. Stepping into adulthood and being in an age where marriage is something I ‘need’ to think about especially, being part of a community that has normalised getting married by 25, where getting married young is ideal especially, for women. Getting married in older ages is looked down upon and apparently determines whether you are worthy and physically appealing. Entering an age where people openly talk about a married life, I don’t even know about nor think about. Openly talking about it amongst others, joking about it and where women from young were taught to think about marriage, to give it fundamental significance. Not for celebrating love, no, but a belief that it is expected of us to do. To dream about meeting the perfect guy and getting married. Women have been taught to romanticise love and relationships/marriage, to fear not being in relationships and marriage. How the notion of getting married and being in a relationship somehow provides us with validation and acceptance within this man-made society and this patriarchial system.
Humans are natural social beings, we seek companionship, we want to be valued and appreciated. We want to experience love in its truest form, and if anyone was to give it to us we will happily take it. We seek togetherness, not because we want it, but because it is expected of us. Why is marriage not about celebrating love and more of something that is expected of us to do? This phrase is something I will continuously be repeating. There is more life outside of relationships/marriage and if you question the obsession and pressure of needing to be with someone, you are the wrong one.
The concept of aloneness has been internalised since we were children. The idea of singleness has been associated with loneliness. If you are single that means you are lonely. If you have never been in a relationship, the instinctual reaction is to be surprised and to ask ‘why’, ‘how come?’ (aahh that makes me laugh every time). I never indulged in romanticism and a futuristic me getting married, I never was the type to dream about it nor invest my time in indulging in men and thinking of being in a relationship from young. I guess this part of me, felt alienated from my community and forming stagnant connections with women. I have been single my whole life, and it is not something I am ashamed of. There is beauty in waiting and the power in feeling whole with yourself, in healing, in growing and looking after yourself and developing a relationship with yourself. To learn about yourself, to explore your beauty, your flaws, to please yourself, to spoil yourself and pouring yourself with unconditional love and everlasting inner peace. Just like you would with your partner.
The power of oneness. Marriage is about celebrating love, not a norm that is expected of us to do.
The power of oneness. The power of being single and not conforming to society, to rebel and shift the story of your life. The power of growth, the power of creating a life, manifesting it and living in it. The power of oneness in taking control. The power of being complete with yourself and only yourself. To remove the ideation that a relationship/ marriage is something that you need to fill a void within yourself because you are not valuable within your society. The power of being single means learning about yourself, experiencing life through your eyes, mind and soul and enlightening yourself to the beauty of life. You would question “yeah, I can do that with a partner why would I need to be alone?” but why are you in a relationship if you have not created a relationship with yourself and being comfortable with being alone? What happens if you seperate, what will you do? Are you going to be whole? Are you going to be comfortable in relying on yourself and being alone? Devoid the need to seek companionship because you think it will make you whole and fix everything that is wrong about yourself and being an answer to living a joyful life.
Love should be celebrated and appreciated for the universal and powerful energy that it is. Marriage should be about celebrating love and building a life with your love, but also being comfortable with being alone. Companionship is to compliment and enhance an extroadinary life, it shouldn’t be something you feel pressurised to do. Whether it is for other people being in relationships, being in an older age feeling lonely, living in a community where people are always getting married and it being a fixed standard for you to obtain. Or the obsession with needing to get married at an early age and comply to ideas that have been designed that sees fit in this man-made society.
The power of oneness. The beauty of aloneness, the serenity of having a relationship with yourself. The importance of unconditioning what you were taught that is held primary and changing the norms and rules. The essentiality of women turning the view of how this society sees us, from when we were born and was percieved as our only importance is to get married. That it does not matter whether we get married before 25 or after 25, it should not be a common conversation to have. Marriage is about celebrating love and not about what is expected of us to do.
She could hear the waves crashing soothingly against the shore, making it sound like music in her ears, she could smell the beauty of the nature, of the earth tingling her nose. The refreshing smell of air coming through her windows. She had this sudden urge to get up and look out the window, look at the magical scenery.
Slowly, but surely she got out of her bed – her muscles were not accustomed to movements, She felt as though, being alone was the only way to cope with her grief and sadness, She found it easier to cope with her grief, by pushing people away and isolating herself. It has been 15 years, since it had occurred, and yet, she has not forgotten every single moment of that day yet, what happened that day triggered her and became a barrier to her happiness and joy.
She was walking towards the window, with anticipation. She put her hands shakily on the edge of the windowsill, trying to calm her breathing down (exhaling, inhaling, exhaling, inhaling…..), she opened her sky blue eyes. Trying to catch her breath, however, failing to do so, she could feel her eyes becoming teary, the scenery in front of her was picture perfect. A stray tear fell from her eye, as she didn’t know how to react to the beauty that she was witnessing and the overwhelming emotions surfacing within her – the tension between her heart and mind becoming too much. The waves were still crashing softly and soothingly against the shore, the breeze was calm and was gently caressing her smooth deeply tanned skin. She could feel the tips of her full, plump lips turning upwards to a gentle smile. She looked upwards at the dark sky, feeling mesmerized at how beautiful and scenic the beauty before her was.
She whispered under her breath “how can something so beautiful, even exist in this cruel, dangerous world we live in.”
As she was looking up at the midnight black sky, she could see the stars twinkling, she felt as though she could see her Father and Mother who were scattered in various different places in the dark sky alongside, the other stars. She felt as though, they were there in her presence although, they were not here physically, they were here emotionally and mentally. As she was looking up at the stars, she felt as though the two bright twinkling stars were her Mother and Father, looking down at her proudly and happily, protecting her. The moon was shining brightly, lightly contrasting against the midnight black sky.
She could hear Knox calling her from the bedroom.
“How are you feeling, sweetheart?”
Morgan felt her heart skip a beat like it always does, whenever, Knox speaks to her. She still cannot fathom, why after all these years he still stayed and stuck around.
“It felt like, outside was calling me” Morgan replied with a slight smile.
Knox was looking at Morgan the way he always does with: love and pure affection. His dark brown, honeycomb eyes were taking in every inch of her face and body, although, they have been together for 3 years he still looked at her like the first time he seen her, with pure admiration and wonder. He still couldn’t fathom how wonderfully, beautiful she was.
Morgan was a fragile and a young hearted woman although she was strong minded, she was very compassionate and likable, Her eyes had that raw uniqueness, how at certain moments and certain times, her eyes would change shade lighter when the sunlights hits, the irises in her eyes would twinkle every time she smiles or laughs.
Knox walked towards Morgan admiring the two breathtaking views in front of him. Knox softly says “Today is the day Morg, how are you feeling love?”
Morgan replied “I don’t know Knox. But, I am feeling happy. I mean, in this day I was never feeling happy or calm, just distressed and mourn for my Father and Mother to come back. But, today feels different, I can’t explain but, I feel like I have finally accepted the fact that my Father and Mother have left me, when I was 7 years old and are looking up at me from heaven, still protecting me and guiding me to be the best version of myself.”
The amount of joy Knox and Morgan were feeling, were unexplainable, indescribable even if they were happy for different reasons they were ecstatic. Morgan was feeling happy for, she finally found her inner-peace, the acceptance of her Father and Mother’s death, she felt like she can finally move on from what happened 15 years ago. Yes, she was happy with Knox, she was more than happy with him, however, there was still a part of her heart, that was still at her home, the home where she had both her parents – her family.
Where from that day, her life had changed completely upside down, how everything escalated so quickly, that the situation was uncontrollable, she couldn’t grasp what had happened 15 years ago. How her Father and Mother were held at gunpoint and seeing them die in front of her, was all that scarred and destroyed an innocent 7 year old.
Till this day: their death anniversary, she could picture the scene from the back of her head. Coming from a carnival, a beautiful, happy family who had no idea what was going to occur……. BANG BANG BANG! they disappeared. Morgan can still remember, how her Father and Mother were bathing in their own blood. How an innocent young girl watched the universe take everything of hers in a span of a minute. How she felt so confused and so lost. How footsteps surrounded her, people from the neighborhood rushing in to see the chaos, pushing and shoving to see what had happened. Everything happened so rapidly, the whirlwind of emotions that she went through, that consumed her. Scarring her, hurting her, taking her purity and taking away the perspective of the world that she had. The police sirens blaring loudly almost deafening the silence the she surrounded herself with as she was in denial, in shock. She didn’t know what to do, she didn’t know whether to scream till her throat ran dry and till her lungs constricted begging for air or whether to cry. She didn’t know whether to laugh since the world was playing a sick joke on her, She didn’t know whether to stay rooted at her spot or to run away from the madness. She just didn’t know…
After 15 years, she let go……
This question can go out of context. This is the type of question where people may agree or disagree. A question that people can think with an open mind or with a closed mind.
I personally don’t think that love has a perfect moment or perfect time. You can’t really control love or know when love is going to come to you. Majority of the time, when love comes it is unexpected. It can come to you when you are at your lowest points or when you are at your highest points. Sometimes, it comes when you weren’t thinking of being in a relationship or even thinking about feeling that type of emotion for someone.
Is there a right time for love to come? There is not a certain time where love comes, it doesn’t come when you are looking for it, it just happens Metaphorically, you can’t run away from love, you can deny it, but if you are feeling constant emotions that comes whenever you are with that person, you will not be able to deny it, there’s just so much you can do until you have got to accept it. You can say ‘No! I don’t want love, I don’t want it. I don’t want to feel that. I’m not ready for it, I’m not ready to settle down. Don’t give it to me now, it is not the right time for me okay!’ You think loves going to listen to you? No okay, love won’t listen to you, it will do whatever the hell it wants and it will give you that person (that person can either be a curse or a blessing).
It’s like destiny or faith (I believe in that). Everything happens for a reason right? Yeah, what if you were supposed to meet that person? What if there was an actual reason as to why you crossed path with them?
People, for instance, a guy would say ‘I met her at the wrong time, it wasn’t the right time, the timing was all wrong’. But, how do you know when it’s the right time? Usually, when you are looking for love or searching for love it doesn’t come your way and the person that may come can be the wrong person for you. You can’t force love to happen, you can’t force attraction nor can you force feelings. If you are saying that you are waiting for the ‘right time’ then it may never be the right time because you will never be ready. You are not supposed to be prepared for love neither should you look for love.
When love comes it is going to be a complete surprise, completely unexpected. It is going to hit you like a ton of bricks and that is what makes it beautiful. Although, you didn’t plan it or look for the person, the person came and they were right for you. It just depends on whether you are going to take a chance. It’s a choice whether you want to be with the person. There isn’t really a right time or a right moment. There’s never a perfect time, it’s up to you as perfect time is only a perfect time when you create it.
Everyone thinks they know what they want, or what they are doing. Everyone wants to have control of their life, their feelings and who comes into their lives but you can’t.
Don’t be afraid if you think that it’s not the right time, go for it and make mistakes, take risks and make sacrifices. At the end, it will be very unexpected and it may be worth it..
You have everything given to you, it just depends on whether you will take advantage of it and whether you will make the most out of it.