a daylight dream

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So, yesterday, my dad opened up my health issues. He was kind, gentle and affirming. However, he said that I was pressurising him with how I neglect myself, malnourish my body while I'm growing and building myself up. I told him that I was okay, of at least more okay than before (that 'before' refers to three years ago). I didn't lie, but I wasn't so truthful either. I wish I were more truthful but I was afraid to burst my bubble and feel all weak and fragile again. I just nodded my head confirming his views on how sabotaging I am. Because I am . But I will fix that. Forsooth, November had been a pleasant month. The purple sunrises, the dusky plummy dusks, the ultramarine-blue skies and lastly, the crisp chilly blue winds. I love it when the winds are blue, of course they just feel blue. Some winds are yellow and sandy, blowing from the southern lands, some are maroon with heat and humidity, and some are blissfully green, subtle and rejuvenating. The blue win

I've been quite skeptical lately about whether I actually love or not. Actually, it's been a really long time since I purely loved and showed it. I've grown afraid to hug people, even my sister, whom I cuddle without passion, without that burning warming fire erupting within my heart. It's like there is this barrier between the fantastical world of compassion inside my head and reality. Am I afraid to love? Or let me say; am I afraid to show it? More accurately, I think I never learned to show it. I love everyone around me. I have some real gallant dear friends, a supporting, responsible father, my distant, kind mother and lastly, my own joyful, beautiful sister. What happens is, I spent the whole day wishing I could just hug them tightly and show how much I appreciate them being in my life, but I'm just unable to do it. The love I behold remains within me, locked in cubicles of daydreams and thoughts. Is it because I never saw everlasting love in front of my o

I live in a country where the educational system is pretty screwed up. It's difficult, mainly based on memorising, equipped with crammed and filthy public schools with absolutely no decent teachers and even with the dose of hopelessness around, I'll forever argue and complain about it. Because it's unfair. Unfair that millions of students have to keep up with this carelessness and the inefficiency of our government and political system. Every time I think about those families that are in need for their children to grow and learn to gain skills needed for work and money, it saddens me. 30% of students actually drop out of high school here, most of them get abusive work to help their families and many choose the wrong paths that afflict our society. Adding to this, most of the children actually going to school have no idea what the curriculum is trying to aim at. It's hopeless. Sometimes I just wonder about what's there I can do to fix things up, and how unfair it

Hey peeps. The title does not look very indulging but I'm realistically very lethargic all of a sudden. It might be a predictable disposition since I studied a lot last week, but still, I'm not used to this state. However, I'm giving it time for my body and mind to feel okay by itself. I tried shifting from one book to another in order to stimulate my neurones but I'm still lazy and idle. It's not nice to feel that way since I have my midterms next week and I need to study. You know what I've been thinking about? I feel that I'm too ineffective. I mean, what am I doing in my life? I'm literally studying and dreaming. Sometimes I feel so out of course and that one day, I'll wake with grey hair and a weary intellect and I won't have the energy to beautify the enormity around me. I know I'm only eighteen and without fate's interruptions I might live a couple of decades yet. But who knows? What if I die tomorrow? I know I won't be sati

It's already November, isn't it? Time is flying so fast now, I mean it's even ridiculous to compare it with last year's velocity. It's already Tuesday and in a couple of days I'll be having my midterm exams, wasn't it a few days before that I entered Univeristy in the first place? Wow. Anyway, the weather had been beautiful enough to cheer me up. The clouds are starting to get puffy and picturesque, my personality fog just disappeared and I feel me again. I shall never take contraception pills, and I don't advise anyone to take them either, although it depends how sensitive you are to them, but I already know that I'm overly sensitive and that's a lesson to learn. I've been busy studying, naturally. I don't really go out so much, I don't even have friends to hang out with, but I don't mind at all. Being too sociable actually makes me feel so restrained to agree with everyone, like sometimes I'm ashamed to be myself in fro

I've heard and read more than a million definitions for life, but I refuse to believe them as definitions while they are merely perceptions; vivid, deep observations of different human minds. Life is beyond us and I think we won't be able to define it accurately for those who experienced what life is not are either unborn or dead, so we will never reach a full picture of what life is, and we cannot therefore compare it with other forms of existence. Back to the point. I was raised to believe that life is hard and that it takes to be strict, firm and non-resilient to be able to live it right. As a girl, I believed it and developed a fear from life, but inside there was always this courage that made me want to prove this perception wrong. I hated the thought of it, I detested waiting for life to be difficult to bear. It gets difficult for everyone, but it does not remain so if you are willing to let the ease surpass its dimensions. Growing up, I saw the ones around me get t

My parents grew me up to love nature and everything that evolved from it. I was raised in a garden full of daisies, cherry and apple trees, gooseberry shrubs and earthworms. I lived in that little garden, usually pretending I was somewhere else, probably somewhere ethereal or heavenly. I'd pick the daisies and dandelions and put them in my hair, walk my caterpillar toy down the streets. I even remember digging for earthworms and trying to wash them from the dirt, but they ended up draining in the sink. Back then, I didn't know what nature was, but it was a part of me, a part of my memories, my dreams, my childhood. Earth raised me and put a beautiful impact on my identity that I am eternally grateful for. I think I was part of this generation which was raised when Earth was partially stable. There were enough trees, sufficient fuel stores, clear air and water. It's dreadful to think that I'm only eighteen now and I'm witnessing this downfall. The pollution, c

I've always dreamed of being a sister, an older one, who would boundlessly provide care, fun and allowances and be that kind of jewelled friend that no other friendship can surpass its depth. Although my status of being a sister had been cruelly interrupted and scathed by others mistakes and choices, I must clearly state that I am blessed with a beautiful, smart, soulful sister. She is still 7 years old, but she had already imprinted a beautiful flowery road within my heart that speaks of affection and love. The secret garden So I spend my summers with her, in the deep green fields, spending rainy days painting, playing puzzles and chess, learning new words and watching movies. Needless to say, I even play Barbies with her and it kind of surprises me to feel bored playing with those dolls when they used to pretty much amount to my whole life back when I was young. I cannot deny that playing Barbies had significantly widened my imagination for there were always stories to mak

So, as I am sitting in the balcony on my "rest" day, gazing at the silk floss tress already blooming with their lilly-like pink and white flowers, and all the calyxes just inspiring the air, I'm bound to be good friends with poetry. I love poetry. Sometimes, I mean to write a song but it ends up being a poem. I'm not so good of course, but poetry is just my mystical, unearthly language to express the conversations I have with nature and my own spirit. Prose is not always very efficient, is it? So, this poem was inspired by a beautiful observation that shall haunt me with its mystery and beauty. Everytime I just think of that day, I fall into a beautiful daydream. It was June twilight and we were driving near the fields and forests, and there was this one piece of land fully covered by yellow dandelions and some purple dainty flowers, the grass was short and there were some trees encompassing the field. What actually haunted me was that soulful mist ascending from