The Dark.

We should all be so lucky to find someone whose seen the dark for those people know how to shine light when we need it ourselves. But sometimes the people who’ve seen the dark, choose to leave their problems there.

Sometimes we’re scared of hugging, in fear of them holding too tight. Sometimes we’re scared to pick someone up, in fear of them pulling us down. Sometimes we’re scared to save someone’s life, in fear we’ll forfeit our own. And sometimes we’re scared to share the lessons we learned, in fear of retracing our path.

Rain Delay [Submission]

Inspired by a quote from Young&Twenty:

“It’s not that you want a life without rain,
you just want to know you’re not the only one getting wet.”

I’m usually an essay writer and I loved the message in this quote, but I wanted to show it visually. So I wrote a piece of original fiction to show a subtle moment of realization, a quiet understanding that you’re not really alone no matter how bad things may seem. There are people out there drenched in the rain, but overcoming it and there are people learning every day from their strength.

Submission made by : Sublunar Reflection


The handle of the umbrella was slick between her fingers, sliding from her grip in the blustering downpour. It clattered the to the pavement at her feet, handle side up, one half smeared with the mud of a sodden plant bed. She looked down at it, the rain soaking the collar of her winter coat, her scarf, her hair. She blinked droplets from her eyelashes, feeling them spill down her cheeks and dampen her lips.

A pair of boots stops on the other side of her umbrella, followed by a hand and a rain-drenched head of hair. She watches as a boy takes a firm grip on the handle, lifting the umbrella up off the ground. A quick shake removes the mud, a mere moment passes before it’s held out to her again. When she doesn’t reach for it he steps closer, holding the umbrella over her head to block the rain.

She looks up to a curious face, a half-smile on a miserable day. She takes the handle in both hands, gripping it tightly against the wind. He backs away, stepping out from under the umbrella’s protection. A half wave of his hand, another half-smile, and he’s off again, his back to her as he continues down the road. He’s drenched from head to toe, rain soaking his clothes, but he doesn’t stop or look back; he just keeps moving forward.

She watches him go, shaking the water from her eyes and the smile from her face, until her numb toes and damp socks push her on, again. One step at a time, one foot further, the rain finally easing up along the way.

They’ll Be Hurt.

They won’t talk about your money, your fame, your to-die-for looks. They won’t think of the designer bag you spent three pay checks on or remember what iPhone’s you recently  had.

They’ll be broken. They’ll be hurt. They’ll miss the way you made them smile and the way you made them laugh. They’ll think of words left unsaid over words that you’d once spoken.

They’ll spend the rest of their lives wishing you could’ve outrun your storm. Wishing you left your shoes in the mud and your problems beneath them. Wishing if only they saw you break, before you let yourself shatter.

Let’s Collaborate.

I’m so excited to bring other talents and work onto the Young & Twenty site.

If you’re interested in submitting a piece, please be sure to abide by the following criteria.

  1. All work must be inspired by a quote or saying, taken from this website or linked Instagram page. (If a quote is not included ON the work, please mention the reason why Y&T inspired it).
  2. All work must be originally made for Young & Twenty.
  3. Include your : Blog, Etsy Shop or any other form of Social Media you’d like attached to your work.
  4. Include a brief summary of your work including the way a quote or saying inspired you
  5. Submissions can be made by mail or a clear photograph, as sent by email.
  6. Email youngandtwenty@hotmail.com with further questions or to submit a final project.

Here are some examples of work you can submit :

  • A Drawing
  • A Comic Strip
  • A Guest Post
  • A Creative Use of Typography
  • A Photoshop Graphic
  • A Photograph (Taken By You)
  • A Quote Cross-Stitched
  • A Magazine Collage
  • A Painting
  • Heck, write your favourite Y&T quote in SpaghettiO’s!

 

*D I S C L A I M E R *
You don’t have to be an artist – just creative! I can’t wait to see what you come up with.

Life Starts and Stops.

We spend our lives preparing for the day we graduate college. The day we enter the real world and the day we’re left on our own. Society has put it in our heads that life starts and stops when we’re handed a diploma. We have so much to do and so much time to do it, yet we live to believe it should already be done.

Life shows no mercy as we’re hit with a wind that keeps pushing back. Teasing us of happiness beyond the cold. Success beyond the struggle. The hardest thing to do is look up and look forward, so too often, we turn our backs, and lose sight of the path we were walking. The only way we’ll succeed is to use the push of the wind as momentum and use the idea of falling; as the very something that keeps us up.

Because of You.

Sometimes I like that I believed your lies because it meant I thought the best of you. Sometimes I like how hard I tried to make things work, because it meant I was open to the idea of you. Sometimes I like the times things went wrong, because it meant I was willing to fight for you.

It’s bittersweet getting through something with the very person who put you though it, but I’m so glad I did because it meant life hasn’t yet, made me cold to the idea of love. And that’s because of you.

Sticks and Stones

Sticks and stones may break your bones but words can never hurt you, physically. Words can’t be stitched up, leaving a faint scar in three to six weeks. Words can’t be removed with relief of tweezers or the cold lather of numbing cream. Words are a verbal slap, leaving pain long after the swelling goes down. They create a label, a definition, a restriction of who you are. Even if you don’t believe them, even if they depict the old you, words are a stamp you can’t seem to escape.

You will always remember when someone asked why your tooth was discoloured, why your laugh cracks the way it does, why you’re selling yourself for a simpler life. You will always hold onto the idea that the bad words will follow while the good words are gone in the breath they are said.

The Kind of Love We Hate to Want.

Our teen years fixate on the popularity of the girls with pretty long hair and a drinking problem. The jock like boyfriends that would bend over backwards to hold their books and the instant glamour found, when accessorizing with pink.

It’s the kind of life we hate to want.

We try to find normal so far from what we know, but it’s a matter of time before we realize people don’t change, they simply can’t. We can fight who we are for as long as we have the strength but eventually it’s inevitable and we give up the act.

The twenties come with a lot of hardships. A lot of obstacles we must overcome, but while we’re occupied with the more serious problems life offers, we forget to pretend to be someone else, and there’s no better time to embrace who you really are then a time when no one has a clue.

Just Another Guy.

Girls will meet you.

They’ll shake your hand, learn your name and catch a glimpse of your smile.

But they’ll never know the comfort I get, when my hand is interlocked in yours. They’ll never know the places we’ve been or the stories we’ve told, all while never letting go.

They’ll never know the times I called your name, laughing and yelling as I surrendered to your tickle match. They’ll never know the pain behind the times I dialed your phone, drunk and vulnerable at two a.m.

They’ll never love your smile like I do. Embracing every chance to make you happy, and they’ll never hear the jokes you mutter, from your half amused smirk.

To her, you are just another handshake.

Another name, another smile.

To her, you are just another guy.