Eyes as Big as Plates, by artist Riitta Ikonen and photographer Karoline Hjorth.
Bjork in Beaux Arts Magazine, France, 2005
Ode to Frida. #FridaKahlo
Even if the sun burst away.
It’s such an irony that, merely halfway into my twenties, I’m already dreading this life of mine. An irony because, in fact, my ambitions and dreams are still very much intact. And this revelation, in turn, caused my life to be unbearable. So unbearable that these dreadfulness and aspiration formed two poles and tearing me apart from each sides.
They become the voices in my head that give me the reason to fight on. And the reason to just stop everything altogether because I’m bound to one destination just like everybody else. And I register that this tension bloom forth a shadow of unbearableness that cast down upon people that I care of.
Seeing my family has become unbearable. Having spent a decade away from my family to pursue what I perceive as, knowledge to better oneself with their full support, I couldn’t bear for them to know that this knowledge is in fact poisoning me alive.
Seeing my lover has become unbearable. We are what we’ll never be. I couldn’t help but to think we’re trying to save the candle flame from dying out, without noticing the diminishing wax.
Seeing my close friends has become unbearable. We’re moving on. Meet ups and phone calls are getting less like the amount of daytime during the winter. But, I definitely did not resent how it ended up like this. I believe I’ve served as stepping stone for each of them, to get them further and pass the baton to another person who can perhaps understand and nourish them the way I can’t.
I wish I could really translate what I’m intended to say as clear as crystal. It seems so clear in my head and yet when I pull it out of me, it appears like a cloud of muddiness. But I digress. Now, everyday has turned into a giant reminder for me. A constant reminder of how unbearable it is and that every single action and mission of my life has now been to make every second of it bearable.