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©2008-2009 *motionlessSndtrk
:iconmotionlesssndtrk:

Artist's Comments

this photo was taken just under a year ago.
...though the title is a Tegan and Sara song, its meaning alone rings in my ears.
i haven't anything new to upload yet.
i only just got home.
..but i'm held now to thoughts and reflection of where i was one year ago...
all while still too often trapped in flashback --
believing I am ten years ago.



i am not where i was then.
not one year ago.
not ten.
i'm weaker and stronger.
more feeble and frail,
but hardened by steel.
my backbone has solidified,
i'll still break if the wind blows too hard.
i'm more resilient.
i'm run down.
i've grown.
i've regressed.
i am not where i was.
i am not ten years ago.


"I'm up and doing circles.
I collapse."


I'm nearly 21.
A confident adult.
Responsible, mature, wise.
But,
some days I'm only 3.
The next hour I'm a seven-year-old cradled in a corner, perpetual fear that makes me cower.
I am 14 and grief-stricken.
I am 11, and I am brave. I am CHANCE.
I am 17 and suffocating in self-loathing and imperfections. Unwanted. Unlovable. Failure.
Then I am 10 and my brothers my best friend.
At 8, I get dirty and roughhouse; unafraid.
I am 12 with the biggest dreams and undying faith. Nothing is out of reach, and my hopes are never too high.
Still,
I am Kristie. I am 20.
I am not where I was.


"Now I don't know why, but I still try to smile
when they talk at me like i'm just a child
well, i'm not a child.
no, i am much younger than that."


i am not where i was,
but maybe i've never been.
i'm unborn.
an upcoming creation.

i am not ten years ago, nor fifteen or five.
i am today.

time to enter
my
brave
NEW
world.











:daprints:

Critiques


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Comments


love 2 2 joy 0 0 wow 2 2 mad 0 0 sad 0 0 fear 0 0 neutral 0 0
:iconnerdynotdirty:
:heart: the curls
:heart: tegan and sara
:heart: the light

lovely all around

--

We all have eyes, but few can see.

:camera:
:iconmotionlesssndtrk:
aw, thank you so dearly -- that means so muc to me coming from you as i am so admiring of yourrr work :aww: thank you

--
----
[...a secret was concealed.]
it rose like thunder, clapped under our hands!
it s t r e t c h e d for centuries to a diary entry's end;
where i wrote:

you make me happy when skies are grey.
:iconsmoothope:
The photo alone makes me feel remorse, but the ending of the poem makes it vanish.

I love the hue in the picture as well. :aww:


--
You have got to kick me back out,
Into the
cold and nasty weather.
And maybe if i sober up,
I will stop pretending that love is forever.
:iconthetivster:
This is wonderfully beautiful

--
I will run and hide, till memories fade away
and I will leave behinda love so strong.
:iconvixi-vampiress:
The atmosphere of the photo really suits the words you've written. A beautiful mood you've created here. I'm glad to see some more artwork from you :) it is always really thoughtful and full of reflection.

--
Death does not concern us, because as long as we exist, death is not here...
:iconknuckleteeth:
Looks like the sun had its brightness turned down. Lonely and quiet. Really amazing photograph.
:iconminusnine:
it's beautiful.
I love your picture,
I love your comments.

:love:
:iconmotionlesssndtrk:
aw, thank you so so much == that means so much to me

--
----
[...a secret was concealed.]
it rose like thunder, clapped under our hands!
it s t r e t c h e d for centuries to a diary entry's end;
where i wrote:

you make me happy when skies are grey.
:iconmotionlesssndtrk:
oddly, even in my photoediting, i didn't adjust the brightness --it was actually lit that way on its own. it spoke its own metaphor "of brightness turned down" just as you said. into a room of empty hearts and shadows.
thank you so much

--
----
[...a secret was concealed.]
it rose like thunder, clapped under our hands!
it s t r e t c h e d for centuries to a diary entry's end;
where i wrote:

you make me happy when skies are grey.
:iconmotionlesssndtrk:
aw, thank you so so dearly.
that means so veryy much to me

--
----
[...a secret was concealed.]
it rose like thunder, clapped under our hands!
it s t r e t c h e d for centuries to a diary entry's end;
where i wrote:

you make me happy when skies are grey.

Details

July 8, 2008
30.5 KB
30.5 KB
451×600

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