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The Ethereal Ascent

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  The Ethereal Ascent The air in the room is violently still, creating a heavy pressure. She has long stopped looking at the clock, realising that time here is not a sequence but a weight. The waiting room has fractured; the mundane reality of plastic chairs and linoleum flooring splinters into a jagged, stained-glass fever dream. High-pitched frequencies of burning red and sickly blues vibrate as if hardened walls, echoing the frantic noise of a mind that has run out of distractions. Every sharp edge of colour feels like a spiritual siege, a sensory reminder that her momentum has been forcibly halted. There is no use in pacing. There is no use in resisting the authoritative hand of the "in-between." To survive this stall, she must stop fighting the current and become part of the stagnant water. She looks out, as if just awakened, and does the only thing left to recollect. She breathes. She waits. She waits for the shards to align once more. Be Creative and Innovative wit...
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Breath Through The Wait

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Breath Through The Wait

The heavy anticipation culminates in a complete surrender, with the oppressive weight of the wait dragging her down. She is a tightly coiled figure, her head hidden, utterly immersed in a flow of deep blues and wounded purples. Around her, the setting has shattered into a jarring, stained-glass mosaic. Shards of burning red and sickly yellow pierce through the waiting room, transforming it into a scene from a fever dream.

The wait has transcended a simple social inconvenience, becoming a feeling of spiritual siege. She almost dissolves into the furniture, marked by a particular exhaustion in which all distractions have failed, forcing her into the raw, noisy silence of our own collective minds. The room's colours aren't merely decorative; they resonate like high-pitched emotional frequencies, vibrating against a body of stagnant water.

You've succumbed to that awkward in-between space: the momentum of your life has stalled, leaving you with only doubt. Yet, even in this standstill, you sense something. Together, we wait restlessly, knowing our moment will arrive through submission to authoritative control. Something is real and will regain form once this cloud of uncertainty disperses. The goal is not to resist this pause but to breathe through it.







John Bennett - AKA JJFBbennett, is an independent artist. You can view and subscribe to my work via Blogger, YouTube, Flicker, Facebook, Instagram and Deviant Art. 

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Copyright

This artwork is protected by U.S. and International copyright laws. Distribution and/or modification of the artwork without the written permission of the sponsor is prohibited.

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