raft

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when the sun

swivels into marvels

of a sky

painted by the late afternoon

we say goodbyes

to days

set ablaze

by the haze

of places

set in tables

served by a distinct

longing for the satisfaction

in better tomorrows.

longing to be filled.

© Hudson Biko

Photograph by Alexander Andrews

 

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Sanity

Caleb George.jpg

It was an afternoon.

As we found ourselves

sitting in rooms

silenced by those

who seek sanity

and their own silence

,

By those

who seek

more

,

Partially empty.

devoid

from voids

of temporary

interactions

as silence

gave in to

bounds

of sound

as it began

to feel

like the

seals

were finally peeling

off

;

But

we should have

known better

,

tethering

on the precipice

of sound

isn’t really

escaping silence

,

All it ever does

is seal

u

s

in it

,

No matter how much we try to peel it off.

 

© Hudson Biko

Photograph: Caleb George

 

Taxi Musing II

Peter Kasprzyk.jpg

On Friday afternoon, I took two taxi rides.

On my first, I was on my way somewhere. I didn’t know exactly where I was going. I didn’t know exactly how I would reach there. I really just hoped that the driver taking me would.

He didn’t.

But he did have an idea. An idea of where that place was. An idea of the roads that might lead there. An idea of the path to our destination.

 

On my second, I was on my way home. I knew exactly where I was going. I knew exactly how I would reach there. I really just hoped that the driver taking me would.

He did.

But amongst the congestion and confusion we call traffic on a Friday afternoon, we got stuck in the middle of each highway or pathway we eventually got on.

Both times, I eventually got to exactly where I wanted to go. Albeit from contrasting starting points.

On the first, we found our way based on an idea. Based on our perception of what the end would like.

On the second, we had to divert from pre-conceived notions. We had to find alternative pathways to reach where we wanted to go.

I think that sometimes that’s the oxymoron we find ourselves in-between.

In-between working towards something we don’t really visualize and finding alternative ways of achieving what we’ve already visualized, especially in the midst of unexpected constraints.

But I also think that those are the moments that define us. The moments where we have to  believe in our own beliefs. The moments where we have to overcome unprecedented barriers. The moments where the journey makes the destination truly worthwhile.

 

© Hudson Biko

Photograph: Peter Kasprzyk

 

 

This Is Your Life: Live It At Your Own Pace

Tierra Benton

The clock tick-tocks in backdrops we call time. Each hands’ progression emphasizing the consummation of seconds, minutes or hours. Hours that turn into days, days into months, months into years and years into lifetimes. Lifetimes that eventually follow an infinity of other lifetimes before us.

And a part of us fears that. A part of us fears that we’re going to be haunted by the minutes and the hours we don’t truly maximize. A part of us fears that we’re going to look back at our own lifetimes and think about the infinity of possibilities we missed out on.

And it’s okay to feel like that. It fuels our own hungers and our own passions.

But sometimes that fear morphs into structure. The kind of structure that has the capacity to desolate and rather than determine. The kind of structure that imposes inadequacy rather belief. The kind of structure based on pre-conceived timelines.

Timelines consciously or subconsciously ingrained in our minds across our early existence. Whether it was college graduation by 23. Getting married by your 30s. Or retirement by 65. There was always something that should have been done by a certain age or by a certain time.

And if we don’t, we start existing in a vicious cycle of unaccomplishment. We start questioning why we aren’t where we were meant to be. We start comparing our timelines to other people’s timelines.

But your lifetime is infinitely unique to an infinity of other lifetimes. There is no way your journey will mimic the journey of others. Because like a myriad of other paths, yours is endowed with its own exclusivity. With its own rocks, pebbles and potholes that are central to its individuality.

And in spite of all of life’s complexities and intricacies, you aren’t meant to be anywhere.

There are no deadlines or regulations. At this very moment, you are formulating and experiencing your own distinct journey. A journey that isn’t regulated or paralleled by pre-conceived expectations but by your own doing. Exactly when you need to.

© Hudson Biko

Photograph: Tierra Benton

Previously published by Thought Catalog at www.thoughtcatalog.com