What a weird chain of days. I feel loved and hated. I keep having oddly specific and long dreams, consisting of all the things that may have a possibility of happening, or not happening at all. It was blurry and all very hard to remember. But one thing was for sure. I was still who I am in my dreams, and in reality. All the people I love was in it. The ones that I truly, whole heartedly love, with or without them knowing it. I felt loved for a while, then I woke up.
I like to think of myself as an artist. I like to think of others around me as artists. Since we moved in to this period which is labelled as the “coming of age” period, I’ve come around many emotions, from me, from others, from external forces that is sent from planets that have a possibility of existing in the universe. Who knows. Joy, rage, blooming confusion, the list goes on. It’s us emerging to be a part of this complicated world. As a matter of fact, we feel more and more unvalidated as we become older. The frequency varies for different people. But there is one thing I’ve always wanted to say to people, that is no matter how diffcult circumstances can put you in, yourself is a creation, a blank canvas that is being painted with colours everyday of your life. Because, you see, you’re one of the poor starry eyed dreamers who believe in the magic of creation and stray from the respectable well worn path of a desk job and a fat pay check – you’re an artist.
I’m really not listening to what you say. I find myself drifting apart from reality. Not sometimes, most of the time. Have you ever been to a place that instantly made you feel like you’d just plunged into a void that swirled with colours you could not name, that spun faster and faster around you, until you couldn’t separate yourself from the ground you stood upon and colour of the sunset on the horizon? That is the beauty of our imagination. It takes me to places that bring knowledge, places that are far away from reality and my boring routines. And yet there are so many things to learn from our world. From things around us. I guess it’s nice to just drift away and look at dandelions for a while. I lose myself in the moment and think of little else and there’s nothing else I’d rather do, than to stand there and take it in, like a human sponge. If losing myself feels like this, I’d never want to be found.
I love you, more than you know. I let so many people drift away from my life. I wish I could do something, say something, get something right for once. Expressing my feelings have never been one of them. I’ve always loved reading stories about lovers in the past. I heard stories from my family, people who found each other during war time. It’s interesting knowing how people formed an everlasting bond in the perpetual darkness of war. They told me that when the years passed, what was left behind is not only love, it’s a will to care for each other, through good times and hard times. I remember reading a piece of writing Jimi Hendrix wrote to an unknown woman, “Happiness is within you… so unlock the chains from your heart and let yourself grow – like the sweet flower you are. I know the answer – just spread your wings and set yourself free.” Love is liberating, just like he said, and I hope I’ll have the courage to find mine someday.
Welps, what a cheesy post. All my apologies if you cringed at some point along the way. After all, these are things that weren’t meant to be said or written into words.
All the best for the remains of April,
T.
Sonorous Reads 