Most often, I find truths about myself not with someone else, but in the moments alone;
seeing a curve of water, knowing no one else will ever see that same drop of water in the same spot again.
Truth is hard to capture, to hold; like a captive firefly buzzing around the dark chamber of my cupped hands.
Sometimes I see it in a smile, a certain feeling of elation;
the plunge of cord fluidity when I’m submerged.
Sometimes as a memory, one I hold close or laugh about with someone else.
A quick spark between the two of us,
both remembering the same thing.
At night in my room, my breath the only thing keeping me
company, my thoughts go on and on with nothing to bounce
off, nothing to curb them.
In a way, that’s how I would like to live- free of things to stop my thoughts.
But then, I know my thoughts would soon lose their dimension with no interactions to shape them, no other voice to challenge them, or fortify them.
(words and self portrait by ella jaz)