i don't paint dreams or nightmares,
i paint my own reality.
frida kahloin a blink of an eye and a blast of blinding light; the world is bathed in a strange form of brightness before it settles and a mass of prismatic glitter elegantly rains down upon the world. the glitter evaporates mid-air as the world appears endless and no surface is there for it to land upon.
among the miraculous phenomena, descends a sleeping soul. a boy of unshattered innocence and everlasting determination. the drop takes up momentum and accelerates in speed. soon the body plummets so fast, faster than the speed of sound and light combined. it is impossible for a mortal soul to survive before the body combusts in flame as the skin peels off and y e t . . .
the fall abruptly breaks while his body violently ejects as a result of the sudden halt; perfectly unscarred, leaving him suspended amidst an empty sky of swirling paint; a combination of a million subtle colours dispersing and merging. his arm reaches out.
his irises shift colours every few seconds and blend smoothly in-between like a highly-pigmented watercolour masterpiece.
afro hair halos his head, in various pastel colours like a fluffy cotton candy; soft and poofy, like a piece of cloud is plucked out of the sky and stuck atop his head, like a piece of wool dipped in dye.
skin; golden brown, shines and contrasts against the infinite canvas of softer and lighter colours. unclad body of celestiality and rich melanins, the only dark-coloured entity and a vivid juxtaposition to the dreamlike, nebulous scenery. splatters of pastel paint across his skin, breaking the heavy concentration of firm pigmentation.
overhead, a myriad of flower petals gathers to forms a giant vortex swirling endlessly in a chaos of boundless colours in all shades and hues.
and from the vortex of petals, dashes out a bundle of red petals that floats into his hand and instantly assembles a single begonia.
gratitude but dark thoughts.
harmony but caution.
peace but warning.
beware,
boy of seraphic blood.
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sins and virtues
Random𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒍𝒚 𝒃𝒊𝒐𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍, 𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒑𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍. [•] 𝙞𝙛 𝙞 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙧𝙞𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙨, 𝙞'𝙙 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙢𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡𝙨. 𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗮𝗺𝘀