Time away

paradise island, bahamas

I can't help but reminisce about the handful of sleeps I had by the ocean waves. How light my body felt, when every morning I woke up steadfastly holding on to the present. Foreign. Different. But still strangely at home with the untamed pulses of the water. Remembering the coloured sun that kissed and burned, I silently wish for my muted footprints to trail behind once more. And then there were the sandy banks. The ones lined with granules of perpetually wandering minds. The ones laden with memories that are only ours to keep.

Unbirthday

I wish,

to wish myself a happy day of birth
and feed myself the comfort of cake and affection.
Make ridiculously pointless desires upon cheap wax candles
and gorge in a wistful celebration of self-absorption.

7497 days young.

Does it have to be every three hundred and sixty fifth?

Dream aloud.

Eleven minutes into the morning, and I want to drive into the full moon. I want to see the world in another light. I want to get travel high. Live in nostalgia. Find my roots. Walk a mile. I want to explore the unexplored, emotions and places alike. I want to run in the sand, fall, and get back up again. Ride a motorcycle in eyes of envy. Jump off a cliff with fears of death. Race to swing the highest. Hug tight, and never let go. Write until the ink runs out. Embarrass myself, and run away.

I want to wait aimlessly.

Cross a border. Meet a celebrity, and give them my autograph. Fall for the worst romantic cliché. Make cupcakes. Blow a candle on my unbirthday. Fight and make up. Write a letter and lick the envelope. Fall asleep under the blanket of midnight sky. Cry over a sad movie. Laugh until my cheeks hurt.

I want to make an enemy.

Sing my heart out. Dance with my own shadow. Buy happiness and throw it out the next day. Worry less. Have a picnic by a waterfall. Forget tomorrow and live in the now. Love without fear. Believe in lies. Play hide and seek. Let go. Make mistakes. Count the stars, only to lose count. Materialize my thoughts. Start a fire, in your heart. Be better. Inspire someone. Lose myself in the game of life.

I want to give my all.

I'm (not) always this ambitious, I swear.

25th

Unborn emptiness
My well-acquainted friend
Why are you hurting now
I've been good this year

I need to follow some footsteps
And live on my own, lead on my own
That – I can and will
But first, teach me how, Santa
To wake up in make-believe

Relapse

Turning to thoughts of gloom
I sleep to forget.

Fearing the all too familiar
I ache for change.

Begging to grow out of me
I run,
and hide.

White flag

It's not easy to wake up
knowing that at one point during the day,
or two,
or ten,
your mind will give in,
and submit to the unbearable.

Knowledge hurts.

More than anything.

Freefalling

Collapsed into an inner cavity of nothingness, I have lost sight of the reason I fell. Maybe if the world had stopped spinning, then the one inside me could finally cease sinking. Reality drowns me in its rootless nonsense, and all I want to do is stay afloat. But perhaps that was too much to ask, because I am still gasping for air, for time, and for who I used to be.

Away

Broken-winged on plumes of hope
the mind soars into an infinite horizon of chance
Unseen, uncharted, unknown
clouds of chance.

Living the frail dream of another
I want to fly to you.

Thirty Three

sandy beach, los angeles

Goosebumps victim of yet another senseless corporate spending (this time an attempt to turn offices into a second Arctic) surrender themselves to the swelter of the metropolis. My feet carries me effortlessly into waves of heat while my body rejoices in an intimate lullaby with the cloudless sky. Sheens of sunrays brush against my shoulders and trickle happiness all over. Molecules of sunshine touch, and then decidedly, press against my lips.

July afternoons, I think I am in love with you.

Complementary

I have a collection of things.

Things that one would put on to, so to speak, complete a look.

A part of me longs for everything in life to have these things.

Some kind of finishing touch that makes the lacking
a little closer to perfection.