Creamy clouds dissipate to reveal sparkling waves. Makeshift linen dresses. Vineyard horizons. Tangerine colored terraces overlook the marble sand. Salty hair. Fresh strawberries. Sun-spotted hands. And we pause for a moment. If you stare at the sand for a while, tiny grains of sand fall from their mounds. Out of nowhere there’s a change—unnoticeable to […]…
{seaside reverie}
{seaside reverie} creamy clouds, dissipate to reveal sparkling waves, tangerine colored terraces, poise over the marble sand. vineyard horizons, salty hair, and makeshift linen dresses, our freckled hands intertwine; you can’t live your life for moments like these, but once you get a taste… it’s hard not to. –e.l. jayne
Why don’t we ask the tough questions? — Pointless Overthinking
By E.L. Jayne Why do we wait to ask the tough questions until someone is on their deathbed, until it’s the last time we’ll see someone, or before we go our separate ways? Why don’t we ask the tough questions? — Pointless Overthinking
‘wanting to have it all and all be beautiful only’
‘illusions die, expectations die, wanting to have it all and all be beautiful only… all this dies.’
‘actual sensations less intensely than the sensation itself’
“I have always experienced actual sensations less intensely than the sensation of having those sensations. I have always found my awareness of suffering more painful than the suffering itself.” Fernando Pessoa
‘to speak is to show too much consideration for others’
“To speak is to show too much consideration for others. The fish and Oscar Wilde both died by the mouth.” Fernando Pessoa
{disillusionment}
{disillusionment} your constant daydreaming, is your inability to accept reality. life is less of a burden when we look her in the eyes. –e.l. jayne
‘the human soul is inevitably the victim of the painful surprise’
“The human soul is inevitably the victim of the pain of the painful surprise provoked even by the most unsurprising of events” Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet, 20th century poetry
{a poet’s proclamation} poem x e.l. jayne
{a poet’s proclamation} although I may seem stable and well-adjusted, I consider myself a poet, even if no one else were to agree, even if every word i’ve ever said, has probably been said by someone else, and undoubtedly better said, too. i’m not always this quick to forfeit, but brevity is the soul of…
{scapegoat} poem x e.l. jayne
{scapegoat} slouched under the cobalt spruce trees, contemplating what could’ve been. you are doing what you thought you always wanted, yet you’ve lost perspective like a picture by Escher. you can blame it on a straw vote, or our propensity to boast, but those are just scapegoats. life hurts less when you see it for…
Poems & Prose 