private boring emotions

img_3061
img_3064
img_3065 img_3066 img_3074 img_3069 img_3070 img_3071 img_3072


every morning is a ritual.
every moment is a ritual.
we get lost in the “moment” but then we lose our moments.
they vanish into old memories of myself.
my memories, memoirs.
i write my moments down,
i write myself down.
i turn myself into words on paper.
i am a walking ritual of remembrance.
every morning, the same ceiling.
every morning, the same feeling.
in and out, breathing.
every morning.
the first conscious breath of the day.

i will miss the atmosphere. the music that was played on repeat in the halls was so soothing that i wish i had it to listen to while i sleep. the whole experience was a world that i never want to leave, i want to float along with everything, watch, be inspired.
it was incredible how connected the sisters academy made me feel. without the distraction of my phone or laptop i spent all of the in-between moments drawing, looking into somebody’s eyes, touching, watching. feeling.
no matter where you turned everything was curiosity and kindness.

anna kristín shumeeva

Related Blogposts

Everything ever thrown away, every feeling suppressed, every memory forgotten, it all ends up at the bottom of the ocean. Beneath the waves and the current, at the cold dark bottom The Leviathan wanders aimlessly collecting the memories, traumas, and feelings from the world above as little grains of sand.…