“Between the Black and the White” explores completely different moods and emotions in day by day life. It’s organized into completely different keys that set the tone for every particular piece. It tries to seize the microscopic tales of life and zoom in to look at each element.
3 am, a cold winter evening.
She is sitting on a bench beside Lake Lagunita, on the mercy of the wantoning wind stealing the lingering heat on her face. The moonlight is gently gliding throughout the bottom, gravity dragging me down. A blanket of darkness weighs down on her. She can’t raise it nor lay it down.
She lives within the second, but these moments are too brief of their divisions, continually slipping into her previous and her future. A wishful thought drifts into her thoughts — a wisp of malachite-like mild that meticulously sparkles wit from above penetrating her— and fades earlier than she catches it. She seems to be as much as observe the path of stars.
Her grandma as soon as instructed her that each star carries a want for someone. Oh, the sky is stuffed with stars tonight. What number of needs are there on the earth ready to be fulfilled? Greediness of human nature. One, two, three … fourteen … She scrutinizes every star till her imaginative and prescient turns into blurred. Shining softly, the celebrities slowly sneak throughout within the pale-gray sky in the hunt for their locations. Tears are swirling in her eyes, and for some time, she seems like crying — crying for a combination of feelings which might be too tender to let go of, but too risky to maintain. Perhaps she seems to be too onerous for her star, or stars. What number of needs might she want for?
What about that chunk of darkness, unoccupied by ripples of stars? She wonders what the celebrities are doing when they aren’t shining. Generally stars die earlier than you’ve the possibility to carefully recognize them, and that’s maybe what makes them memorable.
A curious sense vibrates her fingertip. A way of pleasure, anxiousness, hope for the long run — for tomorrow, subsequent month or subsequent 12 months.
But why ought to one take into consideration the long run when the current is simply too glamorous to be true?
What’s up? A voice echoes in her thoughts.
She doesn’t know. She doesn’t know what she doesn’t know, and it might be rash to conclude that she needs to know what she doesn’t know. The world could be extra steady somewhat than discrete, with out boundary, doctrine and dictionary definitions however full of colours, shapes, sounds and momentum.
One has each proper to really feel the twisted horror, the anxiousness, the failure, the frustration, the darkish, in addition to the sunshine of hope, contentment and delight.
Is it an excessive amount of to ask for us to be honest and sincere about our weaknesses in dealing with the unknown and the flux of emotions?
Waves of fuss surge upon her chest, fermenting an empty seed. Flashbacks from her childhood flood her thoughts, chopping down time. These moments when she performed hide-and-seek along with her teddy bears, collected the mid-autumn yellow leaves, chased after the colourful bubbles; these moments when she anticipated her mother and father coming house for dinner throughout the weekdays, spent the evening excited for a faculty area journey or anxious about an educational award ceremony the subsequent day; and that one second, the very best trip she had along with her household within the Maldives a very long time in the past.
It was in early autumn, when she discovered herself boarded the airplane for the primary time and landed on an island within the Indian Ocean. Frost, echoes of the rain on the roof of her clear umbrella, these passionate but tender caresses virtually like time itself ticking by. Carefree and light-hearted, there she was, hopping on the seaside, catching crabs barehanded, constructing the tallest sandcastles and watching them being crushed by the monstrous waves. That point she went snorkeling within the sea: she remembered being frightened to demise, squeezing her mother and father’ fingers tight and firmly clutching onto their shoulders, making them promise to not withdraw their fingers from her it doesn’t matter what. Would Time permit her to maintain this promise?
Feeling her eyes moist, she blinks, dissolving and sealing up all of the black-and-whites.