Half-bloods & Grown-ups

What she loved most about this moment was that for the first time ever since she took conscience of her own self, she felt like she wasn’t in a room filled with half-bloods. People that live with the feeling of being half-loved, half-heard, half-present, half-alive, day after day after day, to the point this halfness mutates into their blood. But it takes time, which is why most half-bloods are always grown-ups, so she oftentimes thought that it must be a side-effect of some mysterious rite of passage into adulthood. And half-bloods can’t be a deer, or a rock, or some sort of a happy person. You are just that, sad-bound all your life. In fact, she thought grown-ups were peculiar creatures who never smiled with their eyes.

But right now, in this moment, at the Schwarztchild manor, at half past three in the morning, everyone was happy, and immensely present at their own happiness. And Amanda wanted to unzip and step outside of her body, bathe in this moment, in her most naked nakedness, and sow a new skin from it.” Anamnesis

Photo by Javi Waqa cc-large


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