[0320] her.
For this month of March, we present to you the latest instalment of our monthly photo collections series, her., by Purple Cigarette!
“Watch carefully the magic that occurs when you give a person enough comfort to just be themselves.”― Atticus Poetry, Love Her Wild.
[ o n e ]
“She went to her getaway, a wide field with bright green grass all year round, and surrounded with fragile walls of radiating sunflowers, and bright golden wheat. She ran until she couldn't run anymore. She swore she could feel her lungs begin to collapse as her knees buckled from weakness, and hit the grass. It always goes this way when she goes there. Running then comes confrontation. She falls for the trap of the air touching her face, and running through her hair messing it up, though she never really cares, but then comes the part when reality hits. Her feet could only take so much, and her lungs could only bare a certain amount of air. She confronts it all until she brings her own self to tears. She has a lot to blame herself upon, and a lot to figure out, and even though seconds ago she felt like she weighed as light as a bird the elephant waited for her to fall then placed his foot right back on her shoulder as if it is exactly where it belongs. Then with bright red cheeks, and a luminous clear heart she would stand again on her own two feet. She would look the sun in its eyes without even having the need to blink because she too is made of light. The sun would shine down upon her both of them bright, and clear in the spectrum of its own light. She could never really tell if she goes there to get a sip from what it’s like to be free, or because it’s the only zone she could cry in, and scream out into the air, into nowhere, without being called crazy, or being seen.”
[ t w o ]
“i’m tired of the sleepless nights and my chest feeling so tight i’m tired of the shackles that bind me and thinking about the past behind me i’m tired of this hourglass counting down the timeless pain pass i’m tired of my wings being so broken and all the pain being unspoken a broken bird in an open cage watching all the wars being waged a war between a heart and mind that is they both explode in a blitz, oh well they were both such hypocrites ~unshackled”
― Yousef Fahmy.
[ t h r e e ]
“My hazel eyes narrate stories of depths of the past and what shall remain to be unforeseen If I am ever feeling like I’m lost, the sun chooses to reflect upon my eyes and appears like a sudden ghost and give those who I admire a look of fortitude. A look of strength and no doubts, a brave heart and flattery look to who chooses to stare at me. So that if I ever again been chosen to get indulged in a war of thoughts and memories, I shall remain to witness the aches in the brightest of lights.”
[ f o u r ]
“Can memories be edited? Can we go back in time and redo us? If I had one wish it would be never meeting you. Someone once told me, “you can never find yourself if you’re lost in somebody else,” and it’s funny how I lost myself trying to lose you. I’m lost; lost between the distance of what we were and what we became, lost between the promises you never stood by. Sometimes I question myself; am I not good enough? Maybe I’m the reason for the way you let go? I hope she appreciates everything I did; your scent that smelt like gardens that’s been watered in summer, the way your hands shake when your nervous, how you smile when you get a text from a loved one and, above all, how your look makes me feel safe. It’s weird how we only look at the empty half when the light can be right behind us.”
― Flowerchild.
[ f i v e ]
"عندما كنت طفلة في عمر السابعة كنت اعتقد ان الشر لا يصيب المرء الا إذا كان يعلم انه شر و لم يتجنبه، و بنائاً على ذلك كبرت و انا اعتقد ان الأكل المسموم لن يسممك لانك لم تكن تعلم انه سام عندما تناولته، ظننت انك إذا وضعت يدك بالنار لن تحترق لانك لم تكن تعلم عواقب ذالك الفعل، حمقائاً كنت. لقد عشت و انا مطمئنة ان الشر لن يصيبني طالما لم اكن اعلم عنه شيء، و إذا علمت به اتجنبه و حسب حتى لا اتأذى. و لكن من منا لم يكن عنده معتقداتٍ سخيفة؟ و من منا لم تكسره بشاعة الحقيقة؟ لا اتذكر متى كانت اول مرة اكتشف ان المرئ معرض للأذى في أي وقت بغض النظر عن كل الاحتياطات التي يأخذها ليتجنبه، و لكني اتذكر الرعب الذي عشت فيه و انا لا اعلم ما الذي سيصيبني في هذه اللحظة... ثم نضجت اكثر و ادركت الحقيقة الأكثر بشاعة، اننا احياناً نعلم عواقب افعالنا و لكن نفعلها أيا كان... قد نعلم ان النار ستحرقنا و لكن نفشل في ان نقاوم دفئها، فنقترب كثيراً الا ان نحترق، و قد نعلم ان شرب مياة غير نظيفة يؤدي إلى أمراض قاتلة و لكن نتصرف بنائاً على عطشنا... و أظن ان هذا الاكثر رعبا، ان ربما الشر يكمن بداخلي، و ان ربما انا من تحمل اكبر احتمالية لان تؤذيني، لا المجهول."
― Amina.
[ s i x ]
“If you'd known that it isn't forever, would you still allow yourself to fall in love? If you'd known how beautiful she is and how mesmerising her stare is, would you still hold yourself back? If you'd known everything about love, how it'll end and how much happiness it'll come bearing, what is it that you'd do? So many questions, so many possibilities, but no certainties. This is the beauty of love; the unknown and the adventure. The adventure you take on with your chosen one through the woods of romance, between the trees of bliss. Even if it becomes too much sometimes, you know that her presence will be enough to encourage you to persevere. Because she is the unknown.”
― nour sarhan.
[ F I N . ]