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[oldsoulparadise]

the tides of change wash over us all. we crawl to escape it's creeping call. Water seeping at the walls we built to stall the bleeding these waves of change cause after they've broken our fall. These beaches are no longer safe, tides breaching the bay and sweeping shells away to a distant hell of slow decay. But we won't go that way. The salt in our blood and bones means we know the shore is our home. We halt the flood as it grows, we show the storms what's in store for those that it calls homeless. None of us are ever truly broken. We find new ways to cope as we give homes to our ghosts. Piling stones ever upwards into a lighthouse of hope. In the face of thunder and lightning, we keep shining our lighting all over the coast. No matter how far we are under, nothing can ever take away wonder, even drowning we are free if imagination's our lover. the sky and the sea mean nothing to me compared to the beauty of what the mind dreams

#thoughtsmaderhyme

#By Will Ackroyd

[oldsoulparadise]

There are mornings where I wake up quick, and my knees scream so hard it makes my stomach sick. Alone, I slowly pull the sun from bed. And try to soothe my crying head.

And it feels like I'm a battle tank, But there's peace for every ounce of strength, Except I don't have the energy, To keep these demons with the dead. Keep waiting on these enemies, To find their shadows start within my chest. I'm searching for a remedy, Soon enough the burning feeling is all that's left.

Please, I've got the paperwork filled out my friend. Won't you tell me how this story ends?

#By Will Ackroyd

[oldsoulparadise]

Transcendancing

We often look for love in strange places, And find it in stranger places still. From the dark pages on the internet, to a stranger's face, or in the bending of a will. but the everlasting lust for love cannot be fulfilled, For once you know it's taste, there is no better thrill. Love and pain are intertwined, they can be one and the same. Like the scars love leaves on broken hearts, that never again beat quite in the same way. But there is such beauty in the brokenness, that comes with honest openness, when you are left to grieve with the purity of hopelessness about the one who's gone away. But older hearts grow wise with age, and learn to appreciate the perfection of each moment that comes with love's embrace, and treat the pain as validation, that they could ever have been made to feel that way. Memories treasured by ageing bodies offer a release from the chaos in the world we live. A soul is measured not by the love that they receive, but by the love they have to give.

#By Will Ackroyd

[oldsoulparadise]

Til death, our branches cannot be untwined, Our roots will not be untied, Our eyes saw through space and time, To the centres of our mind. For the first time in my life, I saw another of my kind. Our bodies couldn't help but cry while our souls took their first sheepish flight to ride the wavey winds of endless sky. I'll learn to fly, or die learning to love the sight of rushing ground as I fall in style back into a broken body left to dream of brighter dawns each night.

#By Will Ackroyd

[oldsoulparadise]

Efflorescence- The art or act of blooming

Before a plant can know the feeling of the sun upon it's flowers, it must endure the darkness as a seed. Like a hand left reeling after existing as a fist for hours, letting go of a structure can bring fundamental release. Like a bulb destroying it's very skin from the inside, to venture forth toward a light it has never seen, something inside must begin to decide to be free, and reach upwards with faith strong enough to bloom even in the darkest place it has ever been. A vessel of potential expression, each stem and future leaf twisting into shapes never previously achieved by any plant before, we are each born unique. petals essentially question and condemn those who suture belief through existing in ways deviously conceived by enchanted cores, we swore to seek more. Extending tendrils further into damp darkness so that we may plant roots to serve as strength and structure that help us hold ourselves high, ascending through emeralds while hurtling towards an unknown surface, so that we may grant fruits at great lengths against the comfort of the cold hell we've inspired.

The next time I feel buried, I'll remind myself that the walls I have designed to protect my soul, might also be the shell that prevents me from growth. Something inside must decide to be free, break out of my bulb and learn to breathe through the earth, awake to spread love and leave my cold home in the dirt, to begin the climb ever upwards and feel the sun on my leaves.

If you began your bloom in the darkness, imagine how fragrant you'll be when efflorescence is achieved. the beginning of beauty is to bury a seed.

#By Will Ackroyd

[oldsoulparadise]

#6:54amthoughtsmaderhyme

Another day has come and gone, All that's left is to reflect. The silent signals of the dawn, beckoning golden specks of light begin to fight the slowly receding night. A bleeding sky screams the birth of another unit. As beams ignite Mother Earth with warm rays, a new day kills the moonlit plains, and repaints every single thing that it can touch. There never was such a hardworking artist as the heavens above. As the sun and moon fight their holy war for dominion of the Mother's attention, I remind myself that both will have their time, and that I am made of the sun and moon and earth itself. A tiny Everything that never feels complete, at the mercy of new moments, safe in the knowledge the morrow comes after dark; hopefully painted with the rose coloured blush of love, and a perfect sunrise

#6:54amthoughtsmaderhyme

#By Will Ackroyd

[oldsoulparadise]

[oldsoulparadise]

Crista Lamore

[oldsoulparadise]

A rambling piece of insight to my mind.

In 12 days, it will have been six months since my leg was broken. On the 14th of November, 2016, someone decided to dropkick my knee during a practice match of indoor soccer in a moment of anger and malice. My kneecap was kicked into the top of my shin bone, and my tibial plateau collapsed into itself. My posterior cruciate ligament was torn and my kneecap fractured. Because of how swollen it was right after the injury (I narrowly avoided having to get the blood drained), the x rays were misread, and I missed the necessary window for surgery. On the 3rd of January, I was told the bones had begun to fuse in the shape they were broken, and that I will suffer from chronic pain and arthritis for the rest of my life. In the last six months, I've endured excruciating pain, long periods of social isolation, crippling depression and anxiety, a battle with addiction and a feeling of having lost my place in the world. I'm currently in more debt than I have ever been, and struggling with the idea of returning to a job I fear will cause me more physical pain than I care to deal with. I feel like I cut myself off from the world, and closed my heart, in order to contain the physical and emotional pain of  my experiences and try to work through them using introspection. While my body is starting to feel like it's nearly ready for me to go back to my life as it was before I was injured, it has taken a lot longer for my spirit to catch up. A big part of me is still healing, struggling to come to terms with how much my life was changed by a second of madness. I was confronted by the idea that a large amount of my self confidence was innately tied to my physical capabilities, and after being temporarily stripped of that capability, I lost a lot of faith in my self and my worth as a person. I am still trying to mentally process my reflections on the last six months into something I can neatly categorise within my own head as past experience. One thing that has become more prominent in my world view lately is the small actions taken by others to express love, often occurring at times when I have been unable to extend that love to myself. "You can only connect with others as deeply as you have connected with yourself" For a long time, I have been repressing any connection with myself so I could hold that pain back to a small part, and try and keep functional in other areas of my mind, my body and my life. I feel like I have finally begun to untie that knot, and open myself to the flow of the world again. A reoccurring thought that has given me strength time and again, especially when things have been at their worst, is the idea that I am worth it. I am worth all the pain that I have felt. The pain will fade but I'll still be here. I am worth trying for, even on the days when I've felt the greatest thing I could achieve was the crawl from my bed to the fridge and back. There are days that stretched into months where I've felt like a black hole, but there are days ahead where I will shine like a supernova. Remember, whatever it is that you're going through, that YOU ARE WORTH IT. If you can feel it, it's because you've earned the right to those emotions, and given time you'll find a way to work the events of your story into one that feels like home. What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, a wise man calls the beginning of a butterfly. Sometimes you literally have to have your entire being ripped apart and dissolved into goo before you can work out how to put the pieces back together with some pretty wings to boot. Give yourself time, patience and grace. There is nothing you can't handle if you allow yourself to fail a few times a long the way.

#personal

[oldsoulparadise]

Malena and Klepetan, two storks from the Croatian town of Slavonski Brod, became the symbol of marital happiness and mutual care. Every year, thousands of people eagerly wait for the two to reunite.

These animals have a rather unique lifestyle. Every winter, they leave Croatia for distant Africa and its warmer weather. The urge to make this huge trip is fascinating, as well as the animal’s sense of navigation. When the spring comes, the animals return to Croatia.

But 22 years ago, a poacher’s gunshot has wounded Malena, a young female stork which was unable to fly since then.  She could not leave for Africa, and had to endure winter in Croatia. On the other hand, her mate Klepetan can’t resist the nature’s call for migration, and annually goes on a long journey, only to return to Malena in spring.

It might sound rough from human perspective, but as experts agree, the birds can’t ignore their need for this travel. The fact that Klepetan leaves doesn’t mean he dislikes Malena. The fact that he returns from a trip over 13 500 km every year back to her, proves that his love is genuine and real.

Stjepan Vokic, the man who takes care of the couple says he is afraid that someday Klepetan might not return from his voyage. Many dangers are present, from birds of prey to environmental hazards, yet Klepetan managed to avoid them all and arrive to Malena every year for over 20 years.

Klepetan came back again on March 17, 2015! [x]

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The white sands of New Mexico taken by Jaxson Pohlman

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a painting I did once

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