Home. Home is the tangled web of stars that swim in the galaxy that is your soul. The stars that break and burn, the stars that get beaten and shout and bash against your ribs until you feel what it’s like to feel some­thing again and angels are cry­ing up above and land­ing on your cheeks.

Home is drift­ing against the back­drop of the world like a soul detached from its body, hol­low like the words you feed your­self, like the smile you know the cam­era has seen before.

Home is the solace you find when your head drifts away and Lana Del Rey plays on inside of you like the hero you nev­er had, the part of your­self that lives on after the storm, imprin­ted into his­tory forever; Your piece of peace.

Home is know­ing you have no home, but also know­ing your home, your celes­ti­al soul that glows and shines into uni­verses and lives bey­ond our under­stand­ing, is broken and split into dif­fer­ent places. Home is liv­ing on for hope and art, ‘because sur­viv­al is insuf­fi­cient’.

Home is the hap­pi­ness that takes over you when you throw your head back and it’s just as well no one is here to see; because this is hap­pi­ness, this is liv­ing. This is Home. The beauty you sur­round your­self with and the people you choose to trust in. Home, I’ve dis­covered, is your own untouch­able para­dise that not even you can describe.

Home is my amor vitae mae, the music that silences the war on my mind even if it’s only tem­por­ary. It’s the little things: the quick glances and the memor­ies, the nos­tal­gia that stings and reminds you there are still things to live for. The warmth that remains in my heart, grow­ing every­day and repla­cing the numb­ness like a form of heal­ing over time.

[Embrace the pain, embrace the numb­ness and the sad­ness, for that is the only real way to heal. Remem­ber that hap­pi­ness is not some­thing you have to achieve. You can still be happy in the pro­cess of achiev­ing some­thing; some­thing can still be beau­ti­ful even though there’s some­thing ter­rible. You can still be happy even though you’re going through some­thing, and you have every right to be sad even when you’re not. Find your hope and you’ve found your solace; your muse, your inspir­a­tion, your life­line, your string of red fate that keeps you con­nec­ted to those you love: Because sur­viv­al is insuf­fi­cient.]

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I Am Hip-Hop magazine wel­comes con­tri­bu­tions from guest authors. If you would like to review an event, please get in touch! iamhiphopmagazine[at]gmail.com

About Guest Author

Guest Author
I Am Hip-Hop magazine welcomes contributions from guest authors. If you would like to review an event, please get in touch! iamhiphopmagazine[at]gmail.com