a daylight dream

                                                                    Pictures from Poland. The year is ageing with the foggy mornings, indefinite clouds and winds blowing from the south. It’s rather queer to have December like that; unclear, sunshine-lacking and warm. I’m rather grateful for the warmth because I don’t know how I would tolerate the cold for another consecutive year, as you all know how I struggle with the evening lethargy and inability to move, with blankets covering me up, leaving everything especially my fingers to freeze. However, I don’t like the fog. I don’t like how it casts a veil, as if the planet was just a huge cloud, and we’re supposed to make our way through. Yet, it is a symbol I am listening to and perhaps a message, to clarify a lesson I should be learning before the year ends: no...

As much as I am a person who honours calmness and peace, I cannot live comfortably without momentum; one based on excitement, progress and expectations. I’m not a machine, a programmed soul, faded by repetition and lacklustre daily structures, and I cannot thrive when there aren’t goals to achieve, challenges to overcome and habits to outgrow. I need to get better at something— anything. I remember two years ago, I spent a whole year doing particularly nothing special but living in torment, guilt and shame. My baby steps towards the goals I wanted to achieve were profoundly trivial and the progress was insignificant to be measured. Adding to this, I was lost; I didn’t know who I wanted to be or what I wanted to do in my life and that just daunted me, because I wasn’t going anywhere, there’s wasn’t any direction. I need a direction, a road to follow, even if it is blurred and undetermined. Yet, the thrill of the possibility to figure it all out eventually is able to sus...

I look at my face each morning and see the haphazard freckles scattering around my nose, spreading towards the poles of my cheeks. I can see tints of darkened skin on my forehead, from gazing for too long in the sun, extending my exposure, to induce a little bit more warmth to my body. I have also noticed the veins underneath the fine skin below my eyes becoming more prominent, gaining more blueness as the colour escapes my complexion in the winter months. I’m flawed, dearest. I keep counting those imperfections, acknowledging them, so that I can tell you about their secrets when the time comes. I’m proud of each one of them, because they are not my signs of weakness, but strengths and omens of empowerment. I treasure the cracks in my skin, the faintness of my voice, the thinness of my hair. I’m a collection made by God, and I seek beauty no matter where it is, even if it is within me. Sometimes I forget all about who I am and watch the world parade in the vastness in ...

To my parents, teachers at school, professors in university and adults everywhere, Why did you wait all this time? What made you live your whole life complaining about things you can already change? Why didn’t you notice the incompletion in your identities when you were younger? Why didn’t you support yourselves? Why didn’t you find love? Why didn’t you build your own love if you couldn’t find it? Why didn’t you choose your own careers? Why didn’t you find beauty in what you were learning? Didn’t you realise the miracles of our minds? Didn’t you stop for a moment to acknowledge the magic our humanity is based upon? Why didn’t you trust God enough with all His twists of fate and accompanied tribulations? Why didn’t you consider them as challenges? Lessons to learn? Failures to overcome? Bad memories to move on from? Why didn’t you love life? Why do you feel unsafe in your own selves? Why do you bury hate, anger and shame within you? Why do you conceal your emotions in...

I cannot define failure quite accurately, but I believe they are some sort of unresolved mistakes, that haven’t proved their worth and significance  yet . ‘Yet’ because I also firmly believe that fate doesn’t brutally plan people’s failures but rather treats them as omens of reformation and change. Failures are extraordinary forces; with their might they appear both emotionally and analytically worthwhile. The sadness, fear and shame combined with reasoning allows our minds to find a way out, a solution, or perhaps a mindset that evolves and allows healing to prosper more fearlessly. Have I failed at some point? Sure. Besides that, many of my failures have proved to be major successes. Because I still am young, inexperienced and immature, most of my successes are trivial yet noticeable. However, I do have failures in the back of my mind, still resonating and ingraining their impact in my daily life, till I eventually carve the way to heal entirely and step to a new level o...

I could hear the dawn prayer calling resonating against the vacant town, all voices hidden underneath sheaths of dreams and soundless sleeps. However, I wake rather diligently, tapping into consciousness, my first sensation the coldness within my skin, numbing my feet completely. And it being mid December, I find it quite dark to call it a morning and I’m skeptical whether to leave those comfortable layers of sheets above me to carry on with that they called a day. I turn around in my place, and your face is facing the other side and I cannot see your closed eyes and morning hair, all tousled and messy, so I carefully touch your feet with mine, and they’re soft and cold like Antarctic ice. I smile, remembering us joking that we terribly failed in reaching the standards of having both of us to keep ourselves warm, and we had believed our closeness would cure the chill out of our bodies but it seemingly didn’t help. I eventually get up, drawing the blinds to find daybreak gr...

I always ask myself: can I do more? The answer is not always “yes”, for some days, I feel like I’m doing well enough; my studies, teaching, writing poetry and stories, enhancing my photography and keeping up with this blog. On those days, I usually feel the acceleration of change, the force of freshness bustling into my life that keeps me motivated and eager to push past those opportunities. But other days like today, the answer is: “yes, I can do much more.” When I hear stories around me of people doing their best to achieve and break free from the surrounding restraints, I’m thrilled to do the same. But so often, I don’t know how. I don’t know how to take my opportunities past their level to open up new doors of possible dreams. Sometimes I think, I really want to be a known writer, or a blogger, or even be able to write regular articles to a magazine or a popular online platform. What about finding myself another job? Or perhaps going more in my current one? What about...

Of a broken heart, I slept yesternight. Lone and lust, up a hill. Lost my balance, Into smithereens, I turned and rose, Layers above. From down below,   The winds were a breeze. They blew silently, Paleness in my cheeks, Rustling leaves, Paths, I trailed. Yet skyward, The winds are a torrent, Numbing me, Completely. They take me, I thought I was lost, But what am I, Now? I learn to cope, To stay present. Feel the clouds, Glazed by sunsets, Toppling somewhere, Transforming a mindset. I learn to rule, To lead, A kingdom in a realm, Tame me in my wildest scheme, That no one ever sees. Need not I you, For you give me nothing, Respect shall suffice, Your love, unnoticed, Reality sounds clearer, Resonating deeper, Purposes of achievers, Like ones before me, Shall be my symphony, Your wails I need not, Comprehend. Of a broken heart, I thrive tonight. In my bed I sleep, Winds airing...

From today, Earth will rotate more vividly and evidently. With every passing week, I shall consider putting on more layers on my skin to keep me warm and comfortable. Mornings will become darker, but I shall be there whilst the sun rises, colourises the sky, adding chromatic expectations for what is to come during the shorter days and longer nights. It is November, and a fear is tingling the edge of my spine, questioning my abilities to cope with the cold and the captivating darkness. Also, there is a shallow sceptic disbelief in how I’ll manage to reclaim my health and leave that vicious cycle of relapses for good. But oh, leaving that all behind, November looks brutally hopeful again; the clouds are approaching carrying more than just vapour, but providing the world with a cooler shade of colours, which makes the skies and infinite numbers of azimuths less blue and more foggy and uncertain. But oh, let that be. Let November be. Just as we should all let ourselves be, ...

Never did I ever attempt to think of breaking the rules or even believe they didn’t have to apply to me. I was always the conformist by nature, though inwardly resisting its significance. But you, keeping up with me, sparking my hidden humour with every day that passes by, makes me want to challenge the world. The passion has grown slowly yet evidently and I have to keep reminding myself to act mature and self-sufficient. But isn’t it so hard to keep up with those ridiculous reminders when I’m spending the sacred hours of the unearthly moments with you, in my dreams? Oh the things I could do to see you, and you, as well. You’re more than just your words and promises, which you take no time to translate. But I’m used to taking my time with my dreams and make-beliefs, formulating those many promises and making them to myself before anyone. And, it has taken me so much time and effort, dear, this you ought to know. But now, I want to promise you so many things, but I no longe...