Another relationship ends and now I try to create a story to make sense of what happened. Do such stories even have a use? They place us into a box and into a narrative that we are then too afraid to reconsider.
We are living in some weird times. We expect a partner to provide nearly everything and when they slip, as they inevitably do, we can't let it go. The flaws keep building and a breaking point is eventually reached. Contempt starts to rear its head and you're left with a husk of something that used to be vibrant.
Maybe some people are meant to be alone.
I'll always have my art.
About Me
- Vahagn Karapetyan
- The beginning is perhaps more difficult than anything else, but keep heart, it will turn out all right. -Vincent van Gogh
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Hark Triton, hark! Bellow, bid our father the Sea King rise from the depths full foul in his fury! Black waves teeming with salt foam to smother this young mouth with pungent slime, to choke ye, engorging your organs til' ye turn blue and bloated with bilge and brine and can scream no more - only when he, crowned in cockle shells with slitherin' tentacle tail and steaming beard take up his fell be-finned arm, his coral-tine trident screeches banshee-like in the tempest and plunges right through yer gullet, bursting ye - a bulging bladder no more, but a blasted bloody film now and nothing for the harpies and the souls of dead sailors to peck and claw and feed upon only to be lapped up and swallowed by the infinite waters of the Dread Emperor himself - forgotten to any man, to any time, forgotten to any god or devil, forgotten even to the sea, for any stuff for part of Winslow, even any scantling of your soul is Winslow no more, but is now itself the sea!