a daylight dream

I’m so sorry that July is now saying goodbye, for it’s been such a felicitous month. I’m always filled with a subtle sorrow when those summer months pass by, because they’re always so transformative in a distinctive way— a transformation filled with the air of joy, careless laughter and company, things I usually lack in the other months. So, July had been all about me practising being a child, despite turning twenty just a couple of days ago. I celebrated my birthday heartily this time, unlike last year . With and without my sister, I experienced resilience of staying in the present moment, engulfing it with all it has to offer. I’m immensely grateful for this, because my anxiety is perishing— I feel it saying goodbye after it had haunted me for so many years. Its impact had been profound and I’m thankful for what it has taught me, now I’m just looking for different challenges to overcome the coming years, to dive deep into the subconscious of a human mind. I’m galvanised

On the night of the 27th of July 2018, a beautiful occurrence met our Earth: the lunar eclipse, the longest eclipse in the 21st century. It was the very first time for me to see one, with a bright awareness and sheer love for the universe. I didn’t get to see the eclipse from the start, since it was below the horizon. I spent the night in the balcony, with gracility, expecting the glossy arrival of our moon. All at once, a shadow appeared, with a reddish hue on the left-hand side. It took my by surprise, to see the moon looking so different, to witness a phenomenon so natural and reigned by the truthful secrets of the universe. I spent most of the night watching the moon regaining its silvery fullness, feeling my heart swell after it had been tightened with its shadowed disappearance. It swelled with gratitude and awe; my sister by side, speaking in terms of poetry. The moon was adorned by Mars and its companions; Saturn, Jupiter and Venus. There were countless satellite

a We all go through some family issues in our lives, it’s one of the most common social and psychological disintegration present in our communities. We don’t all experience them in their utmost severe degrees, but they’re present because family is the one social institution that is affected by mostly everything occurring outside of it, which is fairly stressful and challenging. I’ve decided to open up a little about my own family issues. I’ve had them, as a kid, and they weren’t easy to tolerate. Maybe as a child, I didn’t feel it because children are always characterised by such a graceful resilience when facing trauma and so on. However, as I grew up, it all came back to me as these issues kept surfacing and with full awareness. Questions kept reoccurring:  why me? how to stop this? is it my fault? do I deserve this?  The thing is, I wasn’t mature enough to answer those questions mindfully, and no one was there to help me answer them. But now, after I’ve gone through tho

One of the most surprising periods in life is when you finally discover your purpose. It’s usually this epiphany-like moment in which you realise what you’ve been born for— your passions seem to connect, your past holds memories to join dots with and the future seems more lucent. After taking my time observing such a human experience, I’ve come to believe that our purposes cannot be solely based on materialistic and realistic missions. Yes, they are requisite to sustain success but I see that people take it too far from where it should stand. We set goals to purchase apartments, get a job or a promotion and keep working arduously for that, yet, we don’t stop. Hard work guarantees success most of the time, but it doesn’t grant happiness. We confuse those goals and promise others that we will be happy when we achieve them, but dissatisfaction sets in eventually, and we keep digging on and on for more. We need those realistic goals. We need to prove ourselves and make a diffe

I spent a sleepless night, which rarely happens to me, in a rosy July. The warm room air is as pink as a night rose, its petals enclosed primly, not allowing any exposure or light to peek through. I spend the last moments of the night seeing what lies in the colours of the dark and the approaching sun rays, and I am inspired and alive. I’ve never decided to surrender sleep before, but it’s a new beginning. A new discovery, unravelling what the darkness has to offer. It’s a time to see the pictures swarming in my mind, to make sense of the surroundings, to build a home of grounding realisations, to keep going no matter how unclear and messy it is. And dearest, perhaps the best part, is watching you sleep. Your eyes closed, your brows relaxed, arching beautifully across the horizon of your forehead. I look at it, how it wrinkles and softens as you speak, even when you stay silent. With your eyes closed, you’re like a cosmos, bursts of thoughts orbiting the inside of your min

I am quite fond of small, dainty towns and prefer them over those huge metropolises, ones in which I feel a little lost in. That's why for my first road trip this year, I chose a town called Sandomierz located in the south-east aspect of Poland. I haven't travelled so far down the south in Poland, and I can see that it holds a distinct air and a different nature of terrains. It was a three-hour drive which crossed small streets near small towns and fields of wheat, corn and fruits. Since the south has this warmer climate, the fields were beautifully laden with cherries, apples, fleshy apricots and peaches. Some farmers set up stalls near the side of the road selling apricots, which I had never tasted in Poland in summer, because the season for those kind of fruits is usually in the autumn. But since spring came early this year, a lot of things have changed. It was quite a long drive, all in all, but I must say a smile was plastered on my face through it all. We p

The past weeks have been quite different— a translation of a daydream. I spent some time dreaming of summer and what magic it could behold, and now I have the opportunity to make those dreams come true. It’s quite surreal and beautiful. Of course, I’m blessed with my sister, who has matured compared to last year. We have some nice intellectual discussions now and I enjoy conversing with her about everything. We have become very intimate, despite the distance, and I am astonished that she doesn’t shy away from telling me about her deepest secrets and concerns. I appreciate the trust that has sprouted between us. The most congenial thing this year is the way we spend time noticing beauty. In our daily walks and bicycle rides, we watch the skies, birds, trees and befriend the universe. We have picnics on hills in the park and dance beside the birches. I feel unearthly when I am with her, she makes me alive and at home. She reminds me that the love I dream abo

Words would always flow to me when I asked them to; I’d find a torrent of sentences and ideas steaming around the inside of my mind, allowing the ideas to float subtly, and I’d make connections just as they appeared on the wave crests, to bring about an inspiring realisation. Somehow, these days, I’m quite akin to taking it slow in accepting the gushing torrents of thoughts. They are inexistent and based solely on the present; on what to do and what not to do. Nature is overwhelmingly wonderful with its messages, but I’m too attached with the current moment that I find it formidable to shift into dreamlike dispositions, to weave in visualisations and goals, to deem them as possible. It’s really uncomfortable because dreaming is an inherent part of my identity. The future is a trajectory made only for my own make-beliefs, where I am able to live the life I’ve always wanted to live. Perhaps what is causing this alteration is that— the present is much more like a dream r