a daylight dream

Harnessed by the worlds that part us, We are, Roaming in the wilderness, Of faint lines; Light beams that colour, An unfathomable love, A piece of restful art, Coloured by time, And patient hearts. We are left artists, For the universe to discover, We tread different roads, That bring us back to each other. Falling gently, A little back behind, The night dims the canvas, Hidden in your eyes, Close them, dear, The new day shall rise, The morning sun, For the world shines, A graceful leap towards, A direction of faith, And it will be alright. In this distance, Our art is rewritten, Photographed and edited, Sung and performed, Melodies echoing. Perhaps we need lone times, To strive towards, This wonderful masterpiece. The distance leaves a question, Do we need to keep perfecting? Alas, it’s just us, The artists this love made us become.

I’m quite bereaved that March is saying goodbye for it’s been such an endearing and wonderful month over here, given the challenges I faced but ultimately contrasted to the beauty in dreaming and moving past them. One thing I’d like to pinpoint here is that I’m kind of taking a break from writing. For one moment, I got this feeling that expressing myself with a vivid introspection is a little bit selfish. I never intend to be selfish but I felt like I’m focusing too much about my own perception without considering others’. That’s why, for now, I’m spending my time listening to podcasts and shaping my mind with other people’s views and ideologies so as not to get lost in my own vision. It’s a new and needed shift and I recommend that we all just shift outside of ourselves, especially if you’re an introvert, and start seeking knowledge and other areas of growth beyond your own mind. Getting back to March, it was a time for ideals to sprout. There was not a day in which I did

It’s officially spring everyone! It’s truly spring now and it’s time for the whole world to rejoice and seek change in the atmosphere, sneaking into our little lives with hope and positivity. If you had spent all winter dreaming of something, I do think it’s the most beautiful and magic time to translate that into reality. I’m sorry for not being active on here lately. I do value consistency but, those days I just don’t want to reflect on what I’m doing because I want to keep moving forward. I have this unfathomable desire to bridge the gap between what’s in my head and reality, to let those dots connect in the air before me, not just in the backstage of my thoughts. I trust the process and am sure that in some time, I’ll be back with many realisations to share. But I’ve been thinking though. I’ve been thinking of how free my spirit feels. Perhaps it’s the aftermath of spring’s blossoms and rising suns or just an evolution of mindset. Whatever it is, my spirit feels abn

It is a time of rebirth, the heart in us humans returning, balance emerging, curly endings of fates straightening, hope earthing doubt and uncertainty, leaving dark poetry behind. The grace in our days is the complexity of frustrations grounded into wisdom, a fight to let go, a rage to free delicately, through tired eyes and midnight conversations with trustful irises, a morning once to be afraid of, turning into a peachy inside of the sun, embodying fiery yet mindful passion, directed towards a faithful cause. The grace in our days is the life we entitle to all growing things, even if they our merely ourselves. Every spring we age, yet this kind of growth is something that leaves us young with fertile grounds of newness and change. This sparkle in your eyes speaks of peaceful commitments and held back action, and soon potential will sprout from inside of you, and a transformation shall await. The grace of our days is failing to succeed, just to be taught a lesson of t

Sometimes, deep into the night, I hear the door opening. I hear muffled footsteps and keychains placed on the table and I know it’s you. I know because I can sense tiredness and questions contained in your chest, waiting to be gracefully said, instead of being twisted and turned over and over again in deafening silence. I hear your rough breaths coming nearer and my eyes slowly open. The bed is cold and you’re needing warmth, perhaps not the kind I could ever give to you, because dearest, you’re tired. We’re both tired. We didn’t know that making a living would be this hard, bringing us down with constant challenges and sacrifices to be made. We still have a home to build and a family to cater for and some nights, like today, the weight of it all falls heavily on our shoulders and we want to give it a rest. We know that what we’re working hard for is valuable and beautiful but, we just cannot think that way today. If it were that beautiful, then why do we seem to be fighti