Blog Entries from Elemenopy

  1. Ingeminate

    “A smile is limitless,” the old man once told me. I swung my feet off the pine studded bed and tried to brush away the sleep that clung to my mind. Something dawned on me that I could not explain; a deep, unnerving feeling crept up my spine. I had been here before, and not long ago. I shook the feeling away as I rubbed my hands through my hair. “Of course I’ve been here before,” I said in attempts to calm myself as I searched for my boots. A light breeze snuck through the open...
  2. Permeation

    Let us pretend that everything is the way it should be. That life happens exactly as planned. It is odd for us to imagine life in such terms. We are birthed into this stale cone, filled with spoiled ice cream, dipped in rancid chocolate. This marvelous thing we call life. This beautiful thing we call existence. People write entire books about bettering your life. These cardboard encrusted triple stitched gobs of changing you. Alter your appearance to be attractive, they say. Enhance...
  3. The Fog

    A haze had settled on my soul, one that I was not sure I could escape. It was weighted and powerful, and it grew heavier with each passing day. I found myself asking the age old questions of why, though they continued to remain unanswered. All the while angst painted a picture in my mind, one that even I had no desire to be an audience to. Sleep had long since abandoned me, and I remember not the last time that food touched my mouth or that water graced my lips. That moment so long ago...
  4. The Whisper of a Name

    I knew a whisper of a name once, it was silent, it was sweet. It was as most things are, misunderstood and eventually forgotten. As revelation morphed into trite I felt myself slipping, grasping at crumbling roots, and ultimately falling. I was lost. I thought of being lost as the same as being without purpose, but no, I do not agree with that, for life should have purpose, should it not? To be a rock skipped across the pond waiting silently for submergence is perhaps more frightening...
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  5. The Tear

    The Tear We see it often, pieces of ourselves writing a story, one of pain, one of joy, and one of love. In its existence it tells more truth than anyone or thing ever could. Even in the first glimpse before it falls, the passion caught can rival the finest storm. Its proclivity to capture the soul is perchance abstruse, for how is something that is created with so little capable of accomplishing so much? Humbling is the simple intricacy of it, just as light pours itself over darkness,...
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