I miss the feeling of being in love.

What I once found fulfilling

And had me melt like

Our cheesy comments,

Now feels so foreign and strange.

Do emotions just blind us completely?

Not in a way where everything seems dark

And you cannot see.

But in a way where there’s too much light

And you look the other way

Or end up closing your eyes.

As if these intense emotions are there

To amplify and hype up anything

That could be good into beautiful .

And once that light dims,

Your eyes adjust and start to see clearer.

And what once took your breath away,

Now, is extraordinarily ordinary.

The dead cannot have desires

When I no longer hear my surroundings,
When I no longer can see the different colors that make life and instead see either the dark or light,
When I no longer give out carbon dioxide and pollute this Earth,
Does that mean I’ve managed to fly to the moon?
Where sound cannot be transmitted.
Where it’s difficult to breathe.
Can I safely say that I’ve lived another life just to be given a second chance on my favorite planet?
Can you tell me Death is still not here yet?

Hearts; Windows.

People’s hearts are like windows.

You just need to look carefully.

Have they closed the windows completely?

Or have they left a small hole that they can peak from, hoping you’d make an effort and peak through it too?

Have they opened the shades, but closed the lights, making it difficult for you to see; a mystery?

Or have they opened the lights and are waiting for your next move?

Have they reached the next level where they’d open the windows for you, welcoming you and the wind and whatever comes along with you?

Are you looking closely?

Now

What is my window like?

Take shelter in the darkness.

The sadness swept in

like the wind in a lonely night,

peaking through the holes

of the broken windows

and moulded walls,

bringing in the cold and dirt.

Despair shined in

like a curious torch,

looking for treasure and goods,

but only to find ruins and unwanted fragments

of an abandoned heart.

Wrap yourself in the shadows. 

Take shelter in the darkness.

Shut your eyes and cover your ears. 

Let the dusky air shun away the world

that left you behind.

“…looking at the stars always makes me dream.”

I confess I do not know why, but looking at the stars always makes me dream.” – Vincent Van Gogh.

I know why, Vincent.

The stars are faraway.

Shining in the distance.

Some shine brighter than others.

Some shine before others.

Some shine all through the night.

Some fade mid-way.

Some guide humans into the right path.

Overall, they all exist. Stars exist.

You can’t always see them,

but you eventually do.

You might lose sight off them when it’s too dark.

It might be too cold, too windy, too cloudy for you to look up and gaze at the illuminating sky.

it might be time for the sun to awaken and fulfil its duty.

But you eventually meet the stars,

even if they are miles away.

Dreams are like that.

I look at the stars and I dream too, Vincent.

Because dreams are like stars.

I’d like to think that no matter how much distance I have left to reach my dreams, they still exist, just like the stars.

Sometimes it becomes all blurry and dark and I lose motivation,

but the next day, week, or month I can still get up and fight.

I can still look up at my stars and dream.

I can still gaze into my bright existing future, Vincent.

This is why, Vincent.

This is my why.

Where life is lived in half. 

A chain of mountains,

Peaks of snow;

Dividing two lands,

Two kingdoms,

Each living in isolation.

One kingdom facing the East,

The other facing the West.

Its people did not dare to

Cross the borders to

Reach to the other side 

Of the rocky eminence;

It was forbidden.

The law that was never broken.

She would witness the sunrise,

The soft pastel colors of the sky,

The singing of the morning birds,

The tight chill of dawn. 

The adrenaline fully charged

For the ebullience of the day.

But since the mountains

Were magnificently high, 

After noon the sun would no longer

Be seen by her hazel-colored eyes. 

She had always thought that 

Sunset was defined just before noon. 

But He,

He knew of sunset.

He knew of its fiery skies 

And its violet flames.

He knew of its fireflies and

Its chirping crickets of the night.

He knew of the calmness of 

The dark as it laid its bed 

Over the daylight. 

But true sunrise, 

That he did not know,

Only the one that comes 

Right after noon. 

Sad, don’t you think?

If only the mountains 

Would digest itself 

Or move elsewhere, 

Perhaps around the two kingdoms

Rather than between them.

If only. 

But Life will not be content 

Unless it forms obstacles 

For one to tumble down and struggle

And see how much 

Something is significant to one’s heart.

Well, She’s halfway to that

Cold frosty summit,

Hoping someone there 

Would be waiting for her

To share the true testimony 

Of the Star of the day. 

Reflections – The light and the shadows. 

The thing is, if you allow the light to enter, no matter how much you control the spotlight switch, it’ll shine all the way. 

You can’t just expect the light to shine slightly or focus on one area and not reflect back and illuminate the whole room. 

The light. My emotions. Synonyms.

I take it back. I should’ve just left my emotions empty and dark. 

I should’ve just let the shadows wrap me up and bury me alive.