a daylight dream

I woke up with a jolt on one immensely treasured mid-February morning, but with a rather peculiar feeling, not to feel the morning come to life with action and light. The room was dark, and I could see nothing but the shadows of the curtains on the moon-lit walls. Since it was February, it was profoundly easier to get up from the bed after a deep sleep, since the cold didn’t capture the senses of my skin, caging it betwixt the rattling effects of goosebumps and the chills running down my spine. Spring was coming, and with it comfort and unobscured visions. I was quite thrilled to wake up that morning and was astounded not to rise without the alarm I set the evening before. Heading to check what time it was, I realised it was 3 am, a bit too early. Confused, I opened the balcony and found the atmosphere totally invisible by a creeping fog; dense and saturated with vapour, engulfing the street and star lights. A smile slowly slid on my face, feeling grateful for waking up so

There is nothing more fascinating than the sound of footsteps on a staircase leading me home, a place which is drowned in sunlight and silence; and even the buzzing sound of the refrigerator is a welcoming greeting, a place to create more memories for the day; to end it and start it simultaneously, in harmony, grace and gratitude. I don’t mind a small space and crammed belongings, not when they are organised in a way where I can find what I want to, not when there is an abundance of sunshine and light that passes through windows always open, with blinds pulled to the sides, even in the evenings so that I could spend the hours before I sleep in veneration, watching the shadows flicker on the walls. Not only this, but to wake knowing that it’s day, discerning when to open my eyes so wide, and when to shut them again, reconnecting with dreams scheduled for the night. There is nothing more beautiful than the fragrance of a home; spices of recently baked goodies involving cin

The year starts off as it ages, which is very illuminating and full of empty spaces. I recall that I used to dread the vacancy January inspired; empty pages of a new book waiting to be filled. However, I didn’t let that disgruntle me this time, even with the mornings that I sensed were rather melancholic, rejecting the magic of sunrises. I’d wake expecting a sky full of charm and colours— but slowly retreat in disappointment, being greeted by fogs, nipped sunrises and prevailing morning mists. But I don’t mind, I’m still a patient lover for mornings, even if January decides to inflict the atmosphere with southern winds that carry the dust, intoxicating the horizons. I know that soon, really soon, the grasses shall burst with yellow buds of dandelions, and I shall soar with hopes of spring and warmth to come. February is coming, a-coming. I haven’t been productive this month, or not as I wanted to be. But I’ve spent many nights in the living room, spending awkward silen

In your arms I am, Within a cosmos, Horizons unfolding, Infinite folds at a time. Glances exchanged, Trilling of heart beats, Quivering smiles, Of unspoken dreams. I utter an opener, To a torrent of words, They are made clear, By the silenced air, And you, Listening to them. An explosion of emotions, Unreal and ferocious, Heart over mind, Control, I lose. I thought I knew myself, Yet selves perhaps change, Intertwined by eyes, Glazed in browns, Glistening with the inscrutable. And I love you, Though I cannot speak, I attempt to show, Hidden philosophies, Of unforgotten dreams. Long ago, Heaves stoned my chest, Rest was a quest, Unresolved, Buried ‘neath tunnels of Sorrow. You see it in my eyes, The complexion of my skin, The puzzles of my flaws, Treasures you possess. An open book I am, You read only the title, Impatient you are, For I haven’t written it yet. But there are forces above, Writing what

When was the last time I mentioned anything about my health? Perhaps months ago, and I take that as a good sign. I’m slowly figuring everything out in terms of the symptoms I used to struggle with, finding solutions and learning through  trial and error. Holistic health is all about finding what works for our own bodies, because everyone is different; everyone has different cognitive functions, neural combinations and metabolic pathways and it’s not right to generalise the process of healing. There is a lot of information out there but it’s up to us to actually try out what appeals to us and find out if it makes a difference or not. And I did exactly that— not overnight;  for a whole year. If you’ve been reading my blog, you probably know that I’ve been struggling with hormonal imbalances, anxiety and IBS. Through research, I found out that the culprit behind all of those aggravated symptoms was taking those awful hormonal supplements. I knew that there was something

January is here, and so is 2018. For some reason, I’ve always despised Januaries for they created this dissonance in my head; how could a month signify newness but hold such an ageing demeanour all through out its course? Everyone, including the weather, feels quite haphazard in January and tired, it being nearly the end of winter, appalled at how long they should stand to hide the potential magic they behold. However, I don’t mind January at all this year. In fact, I’m full of love towards everyone and everything, which is tremendously helpful to eliminate any sad dispositions that normally haunt me at this time of the year. It’s also a time of preparations for what is to come— the future and all of its plan-friendly plans. Not all things can be planned, and resolutions for me tend to be quite unrealistic and intangible. I’ve set so many long-term goals in my life that have been changed and shaped by circumstances I couldn’t control. Goals are supposed to be measurab

Sometimes I wake whilst it’s still dark, the winter sun soaked underneath densities of clouds and differences in time. As soon as I tap into consciousness, I instantaneously think of you realising my skin is caressing yours, our feet warmed by the layers of blankets above us, and perhaps because of a love we are dreaming of while we are asleep. Being in bed, my eyes blinking and pupils void of light and vision, your thought triggers me to list the reasons I’m grateful to be alive. Just the thought of it being yet another morning grounds my heart to attract what’s best, start anew and move on. A smile forms on my face, allowing my breath to slide gently down my chest, soaking my tissues with content and faith. It hasn’t been easy, to keep our chins up all this time. Perhaps it’s easier for you, with your domineering airs and rational mind— you simply set the tribulations aside and with my heart and our connection, I absorb whatever is bothering you, beautifying twists of fate t

If souls were wisps of unnatural media, hers would have been made of an orb, magnetically coloured in peaches and blues, overflowing bits and pieces of her identity; the darkness and bliss combined. Yet, at only fifteen, her soul was filled with holes that created this vast emptiness within her. Holes that were infinitesimal and unapparent, for she was able to laugh and give boundless love to those surrounding her. She was able to smile and find pleasure in the simple things she had recently discovered; her love for books, poetry and music. Among everyone else, she was the light and humour but all alone, she felt nothing but those holes and the emptiness they triggered, so helplessly she tried to consume it with destructive habits and feelings. But those holes hid within them all the darkness, and you could never tell, as they swallowed the dark and shut out the light. Months passed by, and she realised that with the things she loves most in life, she could plant seeds