there’s too much substance in this world. she has always known this, but is somehow shocked every time she realises it. and she realises it over and over again.
this time as she sits in the sun, burning, dizzying, crumpling and crumbling away.
she disagrees with those that say “there is no substance in this world anymore.” she knows it’s there, but people don’t see it. they don’t see it because other’s don’t show it. but everyone feels it. it is always there; it has always been there.
she once believed that time healed everything. time would heal her loss, her sadness, sometimes even her pain. time allowed the feelings to be eroded, slowly seeping out of her consciousness and into the abyss. but the traces of these memories remained. even with the associated feelings removed, the memory of experiencing them lingered. and she realises that time doesn’t heal everything; it just makes it a little bit better.
the past catches up with her sometimes. sometimes it affects her, sometimes not so much. sometimes she just pretends that it had no effect, while she secretly knows it does.
sometimes she pushes it all away, leaving it on the doorstep of time, hoping that it will be erased, little by little.
and sometimes she just waits, allowing it to affect her, allowing her heart and her mind to linger on the thoughts. allowing her life to take place. it creates momentum. it spins and rocks and shakes. and it calms.
and it lets go.
but even though everything is over, and the feelings are gone, the substance is still there. it fills her world with both light and dark, and it creates a reason.