Cartography of the Void

There is no language that can truly hold certain feelings. But somehow, this world has managed to limit feelings within the boundaries of certain languages, making them almost intranslatable.

I have been sitting with this since January this year, trying to name a certain emotion, rather a cluster of emotions, I think. I can't quite pin down, but I'll only try my best to describe it. It took me years to even realize it as a feeling, or the fact that if I let myself unravel enough, I am capable of feeling far more than I know how to hold.

Grace in Irreversibility

When all is said and done...

You know the feeling, the slight tingling in your bones, your thoughts frozen, of an ache to press the undo button, to rewind the reel of experience, as if it's a cassette you saved to revisit, and snip off wrong turns, wrong interpretations, and wrong investment of your devotion.

Rivers never return to their old courses. Trees do not reclaim the leaves they have shed. Words, once spoken, can never be taken back. 

Yet they always find the sea. Yet each spring they will bloom again. Yet the silence that follows holds expiation.