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Indie Butterfly

Live. Travel. Create.

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Writing

My ventures into the fictitious.

When I Almost Gave In to The Ocean

Here is something a little different… I hope you enjoy.

I picked a flower. I didn’t know why I picked it, but I did. It was soft and pink and smelled like distant rain. I didn’t know why I picked it because it was hours past midnight and no one would notice if I wore it in my hair. I knew its pinkness, because I walked past its tree everyday. At least 4 times. I walked past because the tree with its soft, pink flowers that held the promise of fresh soil in their bloom sat on the path that led to the sea. It sat in a reverie, lost in thoughts of the Things Trees Think. I could tell. Its branched were heavy, laden with the possible and the im; one curled up and out and back from the trunk, to rest its fist on the cheek of the tree. My tree, with the soft, pink flowers that sniffed of future life. 

Continue reading “When I Almost Gave In to The Ocean”

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DESTRUCTION, to the music of Imagine Dragons

[LISTEN TO ‘IMAGINE DRAGONS – DEMONS’ WHILE READING] *song below*

The walls dance, breaking apart from the inside out. They shake as I let it go. The columns around me collapse as I walk past; I see them fall. Rubble tumbles, dust fills the air yet the path stays clear. The marble floor opens up behind me, but I don’t look back – I know the devastation that follows in my wake. The world ahead of me splinters, cracks appearing, flowing like rivulets of blood. Blood they made me take. I pay no heed; detached I continue through the bedlam. Continue reading “DESTRUCTION, to the music of Imagine Dragons”

This world is at once beautiful, simple, complex and foul. It is a refuge and a hunter, a prison and a playground. It is a place where wars are fought, people are bought, and lessons are taught – yet seldom learned. To one it is a place of anarchy, to another serenity. This world is a place of defiance and order. Chaos and concrete law. Allure and lust and power and pain. To some the pendulum of the childhood swing, to others that of the noose. Priorities, passions, pleasure and perspective. However, it is one world, but we who are different; the Rebel and the King.

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