I looked around the park from the safety of my bench.  My legs pulled tightly to my chest as I observed some kids playing tag around the jungle gym. The play ground was shaped like a giant dome.  The dome was built so that children could only enter the playground. With openings all around, the dome could be climbed from the inside or out.  Inside the structor was the actually play ground with slides and swings. The children’s laughter fills the air like toxic fumes that spews from a large truck’s exhaust pipe as it excelerates. A knot catches in the back of my throat. I turn away. 

I was their age not long ago.  Running freely through the woods, located on the outskirts of the city, with my bare feet hitting the ground.  Ignoring the sharp pain that shot through my skin, as my feet grazed over pine needles and prickly grass, I would run for what seemed like forever.   I could almost smell that crisp wild breeze that I grew to love.  My hair would entangle my vision as I would dodge low hanging branches.  When my sprint would slow into a jog, my lungs would struggle to expand and contract.  As I stared into the highest rafters of the trees that towered above my small frame, I would catch the sunlight as it poked itself through the crevasses in the leaves. Suddenly starting from my toes rising up through my heart and head, a certain feeling would fill my whole body.  I didn’t know at the time what that feeling meant but now it strikes a deep chord in me, freedom. 

Jarring me from my deepest thoughts, one of the kids on the playground started crying.  She was the smallest of the group.  Her hands and knees were touching the pebbly ground as she wailed.  It appears she had carelessly jumped from her high flying swing and her landing wasn’t as graceful as she had hoped. Her older friends stood awkwardly around her as her cries continued.  They asked if she was okay multiple times but one boy looked especially annoyed. 

“Get up! You’re fine,” he called to her condescendingly. I cringed.  I watched as her small tear stained face looked up to his.  He glared down at her with his arms crossed.  He didn’t appear that much older then she was and they both resembled one another.

A nauseous feel turned my stomach.  I started to gather my things.  Cramming my empty sketchbook back in my bag and returning the lid to my water jug, I got up to leave.  As I walked I began to think about how my time spent at the park was completely wasted, again.  I looked over my shoulder at the playground one last time before I turned the corner.  The girl was up now walking to the park bench which was located on the outside of the dome.  Her sniffles jolted her body in an even rhythm. I turned the corner.

 252
10 Sep 14 at 4 pm

(Source: wsrod-chmur)

ateacted:

tea and happiness
 669
10 Sep 14 at 3 pm

trynidada:

Mountain Moods

to see hole project pls head over here ⊽

https://www.behance.net/gallery/19398359/When-The-Quiet-Comes 


10 Sep 14 at 3 pm

Galatians 2:20 (MSG) 

How often do we ask God to make things b&w? 

I know I do. Yet at the same point we long for freedom and “justice.”  God gives us that, freedom of choice.  In doing so, everything fades to an inevitable gray. Is that so bad? If coming into the world came with a “survival guide” filled with rules and regulations.. I don’t think I would read it.  Instead coming into this world came with a compass and a map.  A map that can only be read in the light and a compass that can only be held with a steady hand.  We cannot produce such light nor can we hold the map without trembling.  Christ did not die unnecessarily. 

"Is it not clear to you that to go back to that old rule-keeping, peer-pleasing religion would be an abandonment of everything personal and free in my relationship with God? I refuse to do that, to repudiate God’s grace. If a living relationship with God could come by rule-keeping, then Christ died unnecessarily."

 672
05 Sep 14 at 9 am

arcrux:

- Cozy -

arcrux:

- Cozy -
 162
05 Sep 14 at 9 am

(Source: jazzbruce)

all-the-ways-things-are: