Posted in photography, writing with tags , , , , , on February 24, 2018 by desiringcolour


Is it fair? That such a young woman should feel so much sadness?

Sadness and she are one; the feeling clings to her like the hands of a relentless ghost, pushing and pulling her in every direction.

She moves with the tide — there seems no other option.

Because feeling sad, she reasons, must be better than feeling nothing at all.

A Distant Memory

Posted in photography with tags , , on February 9, 2018 by desiringcolour


  • In the distance: The dilapidated and ravaged shell of a building presides over glittering waters.

When taking a photograph, something within the frame must catch your eye. If your interest has not been piqued, then nothing truly compels you to click the shutter. The desolate structure standing so forlornly, as if gazing out at the life upon the lake that seems to mock it somehow, caught and held my attention. I do wonder what happened; was there a fire? Was anybody harmed, or had the building already been abandoned long before?

A note from an agoraphobe, to an agoraphobe

Posted in writing with tags , on February 1, 2018 by desiringcolour

Within bricks and mortar, every season is the same. From behind a pane of glass, one may distinguish the iridescent beauty of a summer’s day; as the bright sun diffuses its friendly glow on all outside; from the stunning winter, with its gentle snowfall and its stunning ability to inspire a certain jollity to even a deeply morose soul. But, though they wish to, they cannot truly feel it.

When the same person who yearns to be enveloped inside nature’s warm embrace also feels an inexplicable terror at the very idea; as if stepping through their front door would mean detaching themselves from their safety net, leaving them vulnerable to all around them that is unfamiliar… It seems such a cruel paradox.

However, oneĀ can be changed. Note, I do not use the word ‘fixed’: I do not talk of a broken toy, or a damaged machine. I talk of a human being, who has somehow lost their way and desperately wants to become the person they once were. Agoraphobia, though a harsh and unrelenting beast, is one that can be tamed. It may be powerful enough to change a person entirely, as I myself know only too well, but that same person is completely capable of reclaiming control. It takes love, patience, kindness: from others, certainly, but most importantly from oneself.

You need not forgive yourself, for there has been no wrongdoing. Any shame you may feel, any embarrassment whatsoever, is entirely misplaced.
There is a big world out there; but it is not to be feared. And, one day, I have hope that you will happily join it.


Posted in writing with tags on January 27, 2018 by desiringcolour

Stepping outside into the brisk autumn, the harsh air whips her skin with a ferocity very much unlike her own.

Such a delicate creature, yet possessing so much ferocity that only her mental anguish could provoke.

For now, she is free. She can allow all the devastation, that holds her so tightly in its shackles, to spill forth. She could cry forever.

Such a happy girl, once. She wonders, amidst all the other awful thoughts that tumble around in her mind like a reckless and unforgiving storm, just when depression decided to make itself at home within her. Why did it choose her?

Midnight passed by long ago; golden lights inside windows of neighbouring houses are extinguishing one by one. Black silhouettes of eerie trees, painted against a backdrop of the deep blue and cloudless September sky, are now all she has to look at. Soon she will be surrounded by nothing but darkness. Apt. With an exhausted sigh, she somehow finds the strength to trudge back inside to her bed. Perhaps it will provide some refuge.