At what point do we start living? I mean undeniably raw living. The moment where every breath that spills from your lips harbours a beautiful memory. The feeling of running blindly with no horizon ahead, simply life itself dancing around you causing every cell in your body to ignite with a passion so intense your voice could be heard over thunderous oceans. They say the rare few who find life dance amongst the stars and unlock every secret the universe has to offer.
How tremendous it must be to find beauty in what cannot be seen to the naked eye but which can be felt in the very pits of ones soul.
What is life but a canvas with an infinite supply of colour? Millions of artworks being made every single second, neither two the same. The canvas cannot be filled, for the possibilities are endless.
Yet still, most only choose to paint in shades of grey. Their minds creating iron boxes caging their hearts so that they never get to explode in joy. The grey spreads over the seas like a deadly plague, pulling the very voice from within you.
Only a small percent of the world know how to fight the grey. To turn the bleak into beautiful. The dark into light. The breath into poetry. These people are known as the renegades, the outcasts, the wild.
It is said these people can dance with fire and stay afloat in the harshest of waters. Their souls ignite with the pure found love of life. They may be small to the eye but they are infinite. Their bodies branching out to the furthest stars, anchoring them to this planet.
They live.
And one day I hope I will too...
YOU ARE READING
Renegades
General Fiction"How sad it must be, to fall asleep under the same old stars." "Not really" she replied. "There is an entire universe out there waiting to be explored." She smiled "but how can a bird fly without wings?" "You find them."
