a daylight dream

February was magical, in many ways— enrapturing, entwined with mystic occurrences that allowed me to grow and feel alive more than I’ve ever felt. My life kind of changed tremendously once I started to attract new opportunities and challenges; it was all so new and thrilling but often brought with them faint times of being overwhelmed and afraid, but all passes in the end. Spring defined it’s arrival, with the emerald-green buds, warm southern winds that set the olden leaves falling, undefined clouds and life sprouting so swiftly and beautifully. Random flowers keep blossoming everywhere, and I can’t help but find myself twirling around in boundless joy, not only cherishing it but letting it penetrate my very core. I learned how real our intuitions are— so true and unbelievably connected to a divine force so empowering. I’ve seen so many signs and connections taking form before me and couldn’t help but be brave enough to believe in them. The thing is, they didn’t prove

If I keep thinking what do I genuinely desire, I hope I do eventually get to an answer. For I find myself answering that I deeply want the future I visualise for myself, with all of its embedded unearthly values and happiness. As I sleep each night, I find my heart beating ecstatically as I smile, watching myself sleeping the same sleep years later, with a love glowing within me. My deep desire is to have all these visions come true; to feel young at soul no matter how grey and wrinkled I would become, to allow my laughter to resonate despite the loss and the suffering, to celebrate life in the darkness, hoping for the existent light. I desire to love and be loved in return; not by everyone, but by the ones I treasure. I long for a future fulfilled by astounding observation, where I would realise all the omens and acknowledge them as messages from the divine, without having to worry at all, without having to bother with being human in our overly human societies.

Sometimes it’s formidable to know the difference between dreams and what’s real, sometimes you wake up wishing that what had happened the day before was only a nightmare; a darkened hole in which time escaped and took us down with it. Yet, we still wake, with our hearts heavy, chests stoned with heaves locked and anxieties bustling the silence of what we cannot hear. Because last night was rough; my head was full of erratic thoughts and fears— being solemnly scared that I would never solve the heap of troubles brought to my table, because it was too much. Too much for the conflict in my mind to balance out reality and what’s unearthly— and I keep promising to remain as hopeful and natural as ever, never allowing for negativity to precipitate and accumulate within, never allowing it to  define  me. But on nights like those, it’s a step way from giving in. Closing the doors of bliss, irrational affirmations come sweeping down the trees swaying in my mind telling me:

I just realised the importance of taking our time to recognise our problems and the sources of weaknesses. Too often, we get caught up in the vicious cycle of feeling awful, exhausted and alone, not knowing how to escape from those intuitive messages, not knowing how to numb them for good. We try to amend things by complaining, filling the void with negativity and inexistent solutions. We keep chasing our tails thinking that those kind of troubles are foreordained; yet listening to others’ complaints and sad stories, almost believing that it’s normal to live in pain and malaise. But that’s not true . I don’t think we exist to hate our lives; to spend our days waiting for it to be over— that pain, loneliness, lack of purpose. It gets to the point when we feel as if we are just getting carried away by the routines, recurring problems and toxicity tailing us wherever we go. However, how many of us do actually spend sometime totally enclosed in one’s self; just to assess t

As the darkness pulls over me like a quiet revealing sheet of a different shade of light, I lay in my bed, watching the car lights dancing on the wall, seeing everything in a dim kind of black, and suddenly, the things that meant so much just a couple of hours ago fade into nothingness. At night, there’s a freedom outstretched to the boundaries of the self and its imagination. There’s always this self-talk a little bit empowering, but quickly enough wavers to bring about some worry of what life could bring, it also reviews the different events of the day, rummaging for mistakes and sources of guilt, calling for more and more reformation, because good is never enough. Sometimes at night, I fear God. Although He is always in my heart as a source of comfort but, at times, I feel so small in this world and so unready to die for some reason. I’ve had so many chances to help others, did I fulfil them all? Did anyone ever feel dissatisfied by the value I had presented? Did I ever

All year she waits, For rain, Starved grasses, Yellow-green stains on skin, Patting palms against, Them. Six months away, From winter, A summer mild, But hindered, Spirits to soar, As the greens turned to life. She takes the plane and flees, There are no birds, Over here. Only clouds topple over each other, Tinted in blues, Overwhelmed by purples, Too condensed and pure, Even colours aren’t sure, Who they shall be, As evenings take them away. She pats her palms, On windows not to open, Frost on the outside, Diffusing to her bone, But summer dreams, Across, they nip her away. You taught me songs, To hear and listen, Their melodies subtle, Emotions riddles, Like prayers in the dawn, Faint lines after storms. She shall see her one true lover, A decade younger, A spirit-wonder, She shall clutch her hand, Twirl around the floor. They’re singing all the songs, That you have taught. The lover’s eyelids

It’s only February, but I’ve got some enrapturing and heart-warming news to reveal: spring is coming, speeding towards this part of the Earth so swiftly, taking multiple steps at a time and I’m here with my arms spread wide, embracing it with all my might and love. If you had read this blog last year, you would have known I love spring, and I consider it my friend more than anything else. In spring, I wouldn’t mind being alone every single day for the world is showing me things every measurable moment, little changes that speak so much, in terms of fresh colours and clairvoyance spreading out in the horizons. The last few years, I’d ridiculously wait the whole winter in malaise, just wishing for spring— longing for that different shade of green, the mild sunlight, flowers blossoming and birds waking me up in the morning. However, it’s been really different this year and I’m rather in awe of how everything turned out. In retrospect, I have lived this winter in beautiful a

I’ve always been “me” on this blog. Always have disseminated my inner world so confidently and boundlessly, but I was determined that there were some aspects of my identity I needed to reform, not exactly change, but to balance and make peace with. This time, I’m the “me” I’ve always dreamed of; almost the ideal version of who I want to be, though I need to work on so many achievements and accomplishments, and I don’t think I’ll ever reach that state of being completely fine with the present version of who I am, but finally after a long time, it seems that I’m on the right track. I haven’t got it all figured out, it would be ridiculous and narrow-minded to admit that. Yet, everyday is a step closer towards the mindful and positive life I’ve always wanted to lead. There are many slips and mistakes, but I’ve grown to become more forgiving and accepting— it’s never the end of the world. It’s just a bad day. Just a feeling that would fade as soon as the morning of the next d