Wake me up when splendour ends
I’m reading Intimacy by Raymond Carver from the book Where Im Calling From and listening to band of horses. But oh god this short story is wow so heartbreaking and great
How could I entirely hate the world even when I’m in the deepest depression? Because the sun still warms my skin and casts shadows across the grass in my backyard. It still illuminates the leaves of the macadamia tree. It makes my eyelashes look like diamonds when I blink. The sky is filled with my favourite colours at the end of day, a farewell, a final adieu for the day. And once we grow tiresome of the somewhat over bearing nature of the sun she gives us night, a dark alternative to day, when secrets are whispered a little louder and kisses are shared in a different way. But she is still there, lighting up the night sky even when she can’t be seen. The sun is responsible for summer memories, hot days at the beaches, dripping ice blocks and the spray of freckles across your face, your own personal galaxy. The growth of grass, the sparkle of the spiderweb spun across the branch. The way your eyes change depth and colour as you look directly at the sun or the way it filters through your hair. The sun makes us appreciate the rain, from the light sprinkle in the spring to the violent storms that summer is famous for. And after the rain has passed, the sun produces a rainbow that says ‘Thank you rain, you have a purpose and your beauty is appreciated. ’
Sunlight means growth and growth means life.
How could you hate so much when there is so much beauty in this world?