a daylight dream

            The say at the darkest points in life are when people feel like the light, maybe that’s what caused you to be the stars in my gloomy skies , the echoes I hear every time i allow myself to get lost in those memories we shared. Every time I allow myself to escape the cage you surrounded me with, I start questioning all that is present around me , the people , myself and even the cage. What if I am the one who put this punishment upon myself, as I am afraid that I will somehow loose this part of myself? I do know though    that you are an uncompromising part of my life, no matter how much I try to resist this fact, I would never find it untrue. Then what is this haziness and longing I experience for prolonged periods of time?       All these small milestones I remember accomplishing seems to shrink as I put all my effort In remembering what has happened and how you were like. All these pondering questions are kept inside of me, as I remain calm and collected on the

The first thing my eyes see is the dark canvas of a sky turning a glorious navy blue. The curtains are not drawn, the windows are open, and the chilly March morning breeze finds its way to the skin of my arms. I smile instantly and I hear your breaths, which reminds me to ask myself what day of the week it is. Because everyday is so different than the other, I've adopted this habit of taking the very few first seconds of my day reorienting myself for what the day should behold. And today is our weekend, dearest. A time to rewind, connect, celebrate and stay outside of these four walls. The very notion springs in my head and I wake with such a powerful burst of energy, stretching my arms with a wide smile, my heart beating ecstatically, praying for blessings, abundance and positivity for the day ahead of us. Since its spring, my weekend mornings are spent quite uniquely. Despite wanting to snuggle up near you, hearing you breathe and mumble absurd sounds in your sleep a

In just a few days, life has changed completely. It all started with a few news headlines, whose impact grew and grew, leading us to be staying at home, keeping a safe distance with the life we once knew. On a personal level, everything's fine. My family is safe, we don't have contact with many people. My sister stopped going to school but my mother, who is a doctor, is still working but taking extra care of her hygiene. I went to work for one day, but then got excused and will spend the rest of the quarantine period at home, practising sports, devouring my textbooks and finding ways to create value in my day. I feel confused, a little, because it's such a shift in routine. In a few hours, my plans of going to university, meeting friends and doing projects disappeared into thin dust. No more midterms. School is devoid of life, since the students aren't there and in just a few hours I'm supposed to restructure my life after it had been brimming with

12.03.2020 The wind is howling outside, the skies are drearily grey and it's immensely cloudy. The rain is torrentially pattering on the walls outside, and the earth is being flooded after hours and hours of this merciless downpour. And there is nothing to do. The power is cut and so is the water supply. All we can do is light up some candles and lay down on the couch, still and quiet, listening to the real world orchestrate its power, for once ignoring the virtual stream of happenings. On such days, I don't feel safe. Such storms remind me of painful memories; ones in which I have witnessed the loss of ones so dear. The rains remind me that something difficult is about to happen, perhaps the clearing before a significant transformation. Yet, that doesn't stop it from being formidable. I look at you as my chest clenches, smiling feebly, watching you fixate your gaze upon your fingers, crossed on the blanket. I wonder what you're thinking about. And

     She is grateful for all that comes in the way with the wind that brings chills to her spine. Her soul became so infuriated by the idea of healing and removing the toxicity, that it announces a horrific war at times. A battle is so intoxicating in its dark beauty, the outcomes are as pure as they  could be , but the process is extremely harsh to endure.      It seems like her spirit still has a connection with those hard times, an unbreakable bond that binds her to the lifetime spent crying and breaking down, that ties her up with the ugly parts of her that her mind enjoys replaying to make her suffer. On the other hand,    she now possesses  the power to stand up for herself and cut off any source of toxicity or behavior she can’t tolerate, a strength that was created after their departure.      The mindfulness and the possibilities she fought for are priceless to be hindered with again by the wrong hands, to be excused for a pathetic reason which is a feeling that is 

We all start our work-life brimming with hope, energy and excitement to prove ourselves, make a difference and attain success. There is this wonderful feeling which comes with going to work, full of life, dressed your best and greeting everyone with a smile. I always thought that would be the case for everyone, whatever job they were doing. Why would anyone complain about work? What makes it such a traumatic experience? I guess I now know the answer to my questions.   Although I am a part-timer, I have caught many glimpses of some day-to-day realities which cause work to be a nuisance for many. Most of the time, it's not the work itself but the environment. In my case, I have witnessed office politics, gossip, complaints, lack of support, work pressure-- the list could go on and on. Observing and somehow being a part of this, I found how dissatisfying it is to work in an environment which is not inspiring or motivating. I saw how soul-sucking it is to have co-worker

       She stands under the grey skies, her feet stand hard as the power of the ground beneath her gets into her soul. she raises her arms as She feels herself getting more deep in the waging war, She has no power over its trauma. Wearing a flower crown entangled with golden specks She earned from the castle she enchanted to be hers. As the wind gets stronger and the clouds collide together, the aura of the place surrounding her gets furious by the minute. She sometimes feel that she never belonged in a world of little storms and heartless people.      She acknowledged the fact that her mind relies more on the connection that her feelings have with the roots of nature she implemented herself in. That the stars she spends nights staring at are one of the most magnificent creations her eyes can witness. The firmness her spirit holds is questionable to all those around her , even herself and the grace her heart has illuminates the pathway towards an ending of happiness she longed

Recently, I turned inwards and felt this void. A space in a container that was once so full and overflowing. I realized that it's been a very long time since I felt  like I truly stand up for something. Maybe it's because lately, all I did was really focus on my mistakes and the endless ways to improve, which made me lose sight of what I'm actually working for. I've always been an activist, ever since I was as child of twelve. I used to colour flyers that had quotes to protect our environment, then I was a protagonist campaigning for health and nutrition, then came student fulfillment and the holistic approach in education..  but now what? Of course, at heart, I'm still an advocate for environmentalism, natural health, conscious living and education. Yet, the passion has subsided and it felt like I was working a little bit too far behind a truly clear ideal. This pang of a warning allowed me to think back and analyse everything I have been observing in

I have always believed that the little moments were the ones to most cherish for the astounding way they make us feel fulfilled and alive. However, I don't know what happened that made me quite focused on attaining the bigger things and trying to perfect my own character which kept me off-track. Back again to my true self, I can inherently declare that it is the little things that allow us to experience sheer joy and content. It's not the goals we reach, it's the journey we decide to embark, which constitutes the little habits that we carry out every single day.   We always want to change to the better; to be more graceful, kind, loving and grounded. There's no better way capturing this than quietly thinking about what we are truly grateful for. I have some goals, many actually. I am quite future-focused (which is not always a great thing), but it occurred to me that I'd rather enjoy the journey towards my ideals, chasing them with fulfilment, love and p

      One part of healing that brings guilt into the victims’ souls would be the attempt to break free of the invisible chains that are tightened around their necks. The numerous times you will think that you are truly healing , evolving and changing would be the most times you feel vulnerable. They are occurring    when your eyes prickle with tears and maybe you can’t hide it , it’s not like you can control it . They occur when your body starts reacting in the sight of the abuser, the shaking, the jittering and it’s like a bucket of ice water was splashed on you.               At that moment, you start mastering the art of composing yourself, to hide your anxiety behind a forced smile or a quick action . It takes a toll on you, mentally and physically, yet you should feel proud for resisting the trauma bond that the abuser seem to use as a weapon. That the narcissist would use to validate their actions and try to lure you back to their dark cave, to their fake smiles and fals