{"id":44958,"title":"Dancing Darlings","description":"Dancing Darlings","content":"

<\/p>

\"xxmlj6ucmmxznf4zb0jqneviphmstkngghncgqvstrx0azpj.jpg.jpg?w=1140&v=2\"In the contratiempo, I miss me.<\/p>

Not you, the me you knew,<\/p>

the me that slipped past<\/p>

without noticing tables, corners, edges.<\/p>

My elbow catches a table I didn\u2019t move,<\/p>

and I think: I am still here.<\/p>

A spoon tilts in the mug<\/p>

and almost catches my eye.<\/p>

How small these things feel<\/p>

until they are the loudest.<\/p>

The way I miss you<\/p>

in the small noises I make,<\/p>

the ones you no longer hear.<\/p>

The kitchen is too small.<\/p>

Every movement is a negotiation.<\/p>

The knife nudges the counter,<\/p>

a soft clang that startles me;<\/p>

the pan tilts slightly on the hob,<\/p>

and I realise I am holding myself up<\/p>

more than the countertop.<\/p>

\"anjjkcnsk0sv56it8k76idfgta9uxb1swbvehd8eyllgtraq.jpg.jpg?w=1140&v=2\"If goodbyes are life\u2019s punctuation,<\/p>

then ours is the ellipsis,<\/p>

the kind that doesn\u2019t signal an end<\/p>

but a hesitation,<\/p>

a space swollen with things unsaid.<\/p>

It\u2019s not a neat, tidy full stop;<\/p>

it\u2019s the pause when you\u2019re not quite sure.<\/p>

There\u2019s a generosity in that kind of silence,<\/p>

a kind of kindness that says,<\/p>

\u201cI\u2019m not closing the door,<\/p>

but I\u2019m not stepping through it either.\u201d<\/p>

It\u2019s where memories wait<\/p>

and where you can still feel the pressure of presence,<\/p>

even in absence.<\/p>

And maybe that\u2019s the thing about goodbyes,<\/p>

sometimes they\u2019re less about leaving<\/p>

and more about holding on,<\/p>

not tightly,<\/p>

but just enough<\/p>

to know what you had<\/p>

doesn\u2019t vanish the moment you stop speaking.<\/p>

So ours is a goodbye that stays,<\/p>

a soft space<\/p>

that doesn\u2019t rush to finish<\/p>

but lingers,<\/p>

waiting,<\/p>

maybe hoping<\/p>

for more to be said.<\/p>

\"r6eoipqsmictpsfv1gke1pfbzv3o11o64dzobzknaublnjqs.jpg.jpg?w=1140&v=2\"Colours don\u2019t ask permission.<\/p>

They burst through the long, dark winters<\/p>

like a rebellion,<\/p>

pushing against the heavy grey depressions.<\/p>

Wearing bright colours in the dead of winter<\/p>

is its own kind of resistance, isn\u2019t it?<\/p>

Like stepping out and saying,<\/p>

\u201cHere I am, and I refuse to blend in with the dullness.\u201d<\/p>

Where the world seems to fold into itself,<\/p>

muted and cold,<\/p>

the colours flare up,<\/p>

brash, unapologetic, stubborn.<\/p>

There\u2019s a kind of nerve to it,<\/p>

a boldness in choosing to be colourful, beautiful.<\/p>

It\u2019s less about vanity<\/p>

and more about survival,<\/p>

because when everything outside feels so dead,<\/p>

wrapping yourself in something vivid<\/p>

becomes a way to hold on,<\/p>

to spark some life<\/p>

where there\u2019s supposed to be none.<\/p>

Colours are the insurgents of the season,<\/p>

refusing to be swallowed by the long night,<\/p>

reminding us\u2014without words\u2014<\/p>

that life doesn\u2019t pause,<\/p>

even when everything else seems to freeze.<\/p>

\"qjx5aoz6enbsp1vavlls8kvzmj80kqoyqc6itmkggrhjbn25.jpg.jpg?w=1140&v=2\"Can a book look sad?<\/p>

Am i saved by another\u2019s tongue,<\/p>

clumsy, like dancing darlings.<\/p>

That\u2019s how the words come sometimes,<\/p>

not smooth or practiced,<\/p>

but tripping over themselves.<\/p>

The language is tangled, unsure,<\/p>

fumbling for connection,<\/p>

but it\u2019s still a lifeline.<\/p>

Because when you speak with someone else\u2019s voice,<\/p>

when your own tongue is uncertain,<\/p>

there\u2019s a strange kind of salvation.<\/p>

i am saved by the willingness<\/p>

to keep trying,<\/p>

to be clumsy together.<\/p>","urlTitle":"dancing-darlings","url":"\/blog\/dancing-darlings\/","editListUrl":"\/my-blogs","editUrl":"\/my-blogs\/edit\/dancing-darlings\/","fullUrl":"https:\/\/lostcampitos.com\/blog\/dancing-darlings\/","featured":false,"published":true,"showOnSitemap":true,"hidden":false,"visibility":null,"createdAt":1734135926,"updatedAt":1762385210,"publishedAt":1762385209,"lastReadAt":null,"division":{"id":209850,"name":"Lost Campitos"},"tags":[],"metaImage":{"original":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/ikmbxrmd0fsoikeaboimw5tfbyhul2twxmhiwmvpsfunrj7x.jpeg","thumbnail":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/ikmbxrmd0fsoikeaboimw5tfbyhul2twxmhiwmvpsfunrj7x.jpeg.jpg?w=1140&h=855","banner":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/ikmbxrmd0fsoikeaboimw5tfbyhul2twxmhiwmvpsfunrj7x.jpeg.jpg?w=1920&h=1440"},"metaTitle":"","metaDescription":"","keyPhraseCampaignId":null,"series":[],"similarReads":[{"id":26864,"title":"Los Peregrinos","url":"\/blog\/los-peregrinos\/","urlTitle":"los-peregrinos","division":209850,"description":"A visual poem created by Rebecca with footage and imagery from Matteo Delred.","published":true,"metaImage":{"thumbnail":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/js2xx3vwighcedfvud9mqvbauxxlyuscel0k1gkkcdcv53bv.jpeg.jpg?w=1140&h=855","banner":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/js2xx3vwighcedfvud9mqvbauxxlyuscel0k1gkkcdcv53bv.jpeg.jpg?w=1920&h=1440"},"hidden":0},{"id":34182,"title":"Crumbling Facade","url":"\/blog\/crumbling-facade\/","urlTitle":"crumbling-facade","division":209850,"description":"Matteo Delred's sculpture and photography project delves into the intricate relationship between solitude and artistic creation. In his pursuit of translating inner visions into tangible expressions, Delred finds himself detached from conventional social rhythms, with the artistic medium becoming both a confidante and an isolating force. As he immerses himself in the creative process, the boundaries between self and art begin to blur, presenting both exhilarating and disconcerting challenges. Delred grapples with the risk of losing himself in the act of self-expression, questioning where he ends and his art begins. However, he emphasises the importance of acknowledging the need for separation as a fortification of resilience and a form of self-care.","published":true,"metaImage":{"thumbnail":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/fxv2qr44nqrpzpefvo2i9ze9d7scwzzygwvzzqtjqavd1iz1.png.jpg?w=1140&h=855","banner":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/fxv2qr44nqrpzpefvo2i9ze9d7scwzzygwvzzqtjqavd1iz1.png.jpg?w=1920&h=1440"},"hidden":0},{"id":45413,"title":"Do-Do-Le-Mal","url":"\/blog\/do-do-le-mal\/","urlTitle":"do-do-le-mal","division":209850,"description":"...","published":true,"metaImage":{"thumbnail":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/vh8dwr60rgx4v79yb99aaj3yrsdogcqhjfywcvmp7rerk7u2.jpeg.jpg?w=1140&h=855","banner":"https:\/\/images.podos.io\/vh8dwr60rgx4v79yb99aaj3yrsdogcqhjfywcvmp7rerk7u2.jpeg.jpg?w=1920&h=1440"},"hidden":0}],"labels":[]}