a daylight dream

To all of you who are currently on the road to self-love, I'd like to tell you this: it gets easier. It really does, and it's a fact. But, it takes some determination and self-actualisation. It's not something that happens overnight, and perhaps not a state you could reach for good. There will always be lapses and minor break downs because, it was once a habit to hate yourself and put it down. It was once something deeply ingrained in your mind and body and we, as biological organisms, need to give ourselves time to heal and get cured. It's difficult to ascertain the fact that some time one year and a half ago, I hated every particle of myself. To be honest, I liked some of my personality traits but still, I was putting myself down all the time. Looking back at my old pictures and journal entries, I marvel at how far I've come. I used to look in the mirror and shred myself into pieces, but in those pictures, I look beautiful.. and I didn't see it.

I'm addicted to waking up in the morning a few minutes before the sun rises up before me. I love being greeted by the crisp breeze as I'm unable to fully grasp the view in front of me, because my eyes aren't quite used to the enormity of light, having woken up after a magnitude of darkened dreams. I love hearing the blackbirds chirping. I love waking up feeling grateful. I'm addicted to going to the balcony sometime after sunset, when the sky becomes beautifully violet, trying to capture the particular moment when my eyes would see the world in grey, but I'm always disappointed as the street lights switch on a minute too soon.   I'm addicted to spending the hour before I sleep in the balcony, staring at the sky. I had discovered a triangle of stars, always pointing to the north. More specifically, it points in quite a three-dimensional manner upwards, towards the space full of mystery and chimerical magic.   And during that hour, I'm addicte

I've been planning to actually write this post for a long time now. It's been a little bit over than a month since I travelled to Budapest by bus. Five hours through Slovakia and Hungary, through hilly steppes and dazzling sunflower fields was adequate to spark my poetic side. I wrote a few poems, dreamed a few dreams, hoping I'd make them real someday, and listened to some inspiring music. We were accompanied by a travel guide, who exerted a lot of effort in the heat explaining the history behind Budapest, but to be honest, no one was listening. I, personally, was captivated by the mesmerising architecture and profound beauty of the city. It's beyond beautiful. The vast squares, the arrays of palaces and monumental buildings followed by each other, the small packs of quiet tourists passing around. Unlike Prague, Budapest was quiet and calm and it was substantially easier to just stand for a while, take a picture and imagine those who built this city. How I admi

The end of September is approaching, and it had been a beautiful, calm and productive month, compared to last year. Last September's confusion, stillness and torpidity didn't suit me. It didn't suit my dreams nor my purpose but I took those baby steps towards the change I am experiencing this year. It's been one year since I created this blog and it's one of the best decision I've ever made. 2.6k views is a young number, but it's a start. This blog is my outlet, my instrument of discovery that I am proud to publish to everyone. It makes me happy to see people reading my posts and relating to them profoundly, through my experiences. I know I might touch on subjects and feeling that are too peculiar to relate to, but that's the point. Everything on here is inscrutably phrased. It's mysterious. An outlet that is crude and cognition-lacking. A description of things just as they cross my mind, and I don't have to interpret whether they are ri

As much as I believe my intuition is a virtue, in my society, it's often taken as granted. In order to win, I need to act tough. I need to act as if I'm invincible. I need to act whatever happens doesn't affect me. More that I used the word 'act' instead of be, and that is where the problem comes. I cannot act, I can only be. And even those times I act in, I fail hideously.   The other day, I was supposed to meet a teacher to pick up some work materials. We were supposed to meet on a specified hour in some place. 5 minutes before, I was already in the venue, waiting as usual. Half an hour passed, and she did not come. I called, she said there was traffic but it was already clearing up.. she promised me another fifteen minutes. So I waited. I waited for an hour and a half. I was forced to leave because I was in the car, sweating and getting a sun stroke, with the temperature at its highest peak for the day. My dad, of course, was nervous

just a nostalgic moment. missing those trees on the side of the road. It mesmerises me how much I've changed these past few years, or more specifically, matured. I remember calling myself that lax, calm and sedentary-loving person who would enjoy time doing nothing at all. But it's all disparate now, and I can't manage to basically sit down for 10 minutes without having something real and thought-provoking on my mind.   Last year, around this time, just before I created this blog (it's almost a year old!), my life was floating in boredom and it was agitating. Had I the choice, I would have done more things to make my day more exciting but I had limited ideas; ones that revolved around taking courses in random fields and getting alienated by them in a week's time. However, things have started to change this year hence my status right now; I'm preoccupied. Perhaps it's because I'm taking a step forward towards the niche that best suits my pa