White Flag

Rejection. Hurt. Pain. Tears.

Asking if there is enough strength and courage to push on.

Knowing when to let go can exhibit such still; a broken spirit will tell you when it has reached its limit.

Your heart, though with pure intentions, can deceive. Swayed to believe in goodness without sense of self preservation at times. Catch it while there’s something left that can be salvaged.

You hoped that you would find what you dreamt of — a love that mirrored your own, a kindness that would only equal to grace, and a place that welcomes who you are and what you offer, wholeheartedly.

You believed them. You trusted them. You offered what you could — your sweat, your tears, your time, your heart. You can never force anyone to do anything they don’t want to do,

Just accept it. Learn to forget. Heal yourself. Walk away. Move on.

There is no photo nor no music, just silence as grief begs.

Easy

Erskine Falls, Lorne, Victoria, Australia | SashaManuel.com - Life in Stills and Words. Photo-journal by Sasha Manuel

Water will find a way through the terrain it navigates. Guided by physics, it flows. It circulates without question — loosely changes direction, volume, and pace. It continues to move and go where it’s meant to go.

A great way to approach life. The simplicity the concept presents lifts the strain of living. Capitalising on your nature, how you are made, you condition your mind to just be.

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Brief, Passing, Temporary

Bell, Shwedagon Pagoda, Yangon, Myanmar | SashaManuel.com - Life in Stills and Words, Photo-journal by Sasha Manuel

You think about the things that are important. Or how much importance you put in things.

What matters and why.

How you cope when it’s taken. Or how we often fail to appreciate while it’s near, ready, yours for the taking.

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Peddling love for a dream

Peddling flowers | SashaManuel.com - Life in stills and words by Sasha Manuel

Sometimes, moments last longer or less than a moment, some forever. Favoured the latter in truth.

Hoped and wished.
Bargained and begged.
Snapped and wrote.

Moments captured in stills and words.

There are moments I cannot remember, however hard I try to; moments hard to forget, regardless of time and more moments. But I am the sort that would try to remember, sober and ardent, the things that matter; will matter; should matter.

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Whispers and stirrings

petrified but moving by Sasha Manuel

Spent days looking for answers. Wishing I’d find them in cracks of conversations hampered by science and affections, albeit recent and raw; hoping for a reprieve from diffident choices and crude perceptions. Perhaps external postulations will yield a more lucid key, a needed repose.

My questions were drowned out by the noise of unwedded desires, denied of its cogency and consequence by lackadaisical stab at contact. Damn the viaduct and the pessimistic pull of ties when sentiment is lost in words absent action.

I should know better not to look to others for what I’m looking for.

I should know by now.

I should know by now.

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