Dear David Frankel’s “Collateral Beauty”

Collateral Beauty 2 

“We’re here to connect. Love, time, death. Now these three things connect every single human being on earth. We long for love, we wish we had more time, and we fear death…”

Collateral Beauty“,

As a movie, you touched me long before I even watched you, and not because you follow the deep personal tragedy of a grieving man… no, no, no. You primarily made me sad, because I know that deep in my heart, you were a movie I was supposed to create…

As a writer and aspiring Director, I’ve spent years coming up with different parts of a grand puzzle, and with every new addition, the direction becomes clearer and clearer. With that, there are certain themes that have landed on me. Which brings us back to you as a film…

Will Smith – who so brilliantly portrays the grieving man in question – takes pen to paper and writes 3 letters: to Love, to Time, and to Death.

Love.
Time.
Death.

This alone was enough to blow me sideways, because the concept is familiar to me.

I’m an avid letter writer, and these 3 abstracts are already so well acquainted with me, as I’ve written plenty to them…

Love knows just how devoted I’ve been to finding her; my life is a throne beneath her feet. I’m just awaiting her arrival. Patiently waiting, always.

Time knows of my deep, deep fascination with him. Time; the pulse of everything, the core of all that I do and pursue. It is the thread that holds it all together, and simultaneously pulls it apart.

Death… well, I’m not brave enough to call upon the ears and eyes of Death to hear what I have to say… so my subject is slightly different here; I’ve substituted this with Infinity. Yet Infinity primarily questions mortality. Death marks the end and the beginning. It’s the finite and the infinite. It marches to the same beat. Infinitely. Continue reading “Dear David Frankel’s “Collateral Beauty””

Advertisements

Once Without a Time

Once Without a Time.jpg

For someone who is so obsessed with time, I seem to forget that most people move on with it.

It is not an attribute of the common, to hang up a broken clock in the hall of their stagnant lives. That is a pattern of my own.

I’m typically atypical in my state of standstill. I’m inspired to aspire from the walls within.
The lure of the day marks just the coming of the night. The night beckons me to sleep, for the coming of a new day.

But others, they venture forward and seek to get lost, knowing that the discovery of life comes in the adventure of its course.

Their tales will be told as a time they were once upon, but mine will be told as being without, for I live in a place where the ticks do not applaud me, so I am not accepted as part of that story.

Once without a time” will be my only legacy. I’ll be lost outside of the ages.
Unaccounted for, for I didn’t count the score, counterbalancing the accounts of times galore.

Yes, it’s a strange thing to sit and write about time. For actually, it completely eludes me.

T
Diary of a Deluded Heart

Written: September 7th 2016
Published: January 31st 2017

{Written with Vallendri Arnout in mind}

Happy 2017!

DODH New Year Post.jpg

Happy New Year folks! May 2017 be full of things that have never been!

May it bring you all happiness, magic and love. May it be full of madness (of the good kind) tiredness (of the fulfilling sort) and wonder and awe. May you always stay curiouser and curiouser.

I hope you all read some fine books, listen to some soul-feeding music and watch some eye opening movies. I hope your feet wander off on spectacular adventures and your arms embrace every opportunity. I hope you give your heart to someone who deserves it and your lips meet someone who thinks you’re as wonderful and as magical as you are. I hope hopes and dream dreams for you all, until you find your happy place, and far beyond that too.

This year, I hope to welcome this world in all its savage beauty, and surrender to it wholeheartedly, doing with it what I can. I hope you all do the same. 2017 is the one. For real this time.

All your dreams, all your fantasies, and all your most elaborate delusions, they are my infinite wishes for you.

Peace ∞ Love

T
Diary of a Deluded Heart

Do YOU Believe in Santa?

IMG_7871 copy.jpg

I never used to believe in Santa, but as I got older, I started to.

As my understanding grew, Santa became more and more real. The thought behind this is simple:

Just as Cupid is the embodiment of Love, Santa is the embodiment of Christmas Spirit. That same Christmas spirit we don’t need to see, to believe, and we don’t need to hold, to feel.

Do we believe in that angel-winged child, merrily striking us with an arrow tipped in love? Well… no. (God knows if I did, I’d be on the hunt for those arrows myself.) But Love is real. Cupid is Love.

The same goes for Santa and Christmas Spirit. He is the personification of Christmas spirit. He is the face that makes children believe. He is the tradition that we enjoy.

Just as cupid shoots his arrows through our words and actions, Papa Noël reveals himself through our mirror reflection… but only if we choose to really see him there.
There’s a bit of Santa in us all. In us is where he truly lives; we are all, his secret keeping.

So perhaps the elusive coordinates to the North Pole is within us too…?
Mrs Claus lives in our Hearts – pouring love and soul in what we do.
The elves work on our minds – conjuring plans and ideas for the gifts to give.
The “Naughty and Nice List” is the Year – the one which weighs who remains in our lives and who does not, awarding presence with presents.
And the reindeers… well… they’re just for good measure.

So, do I believe in Santa? Indeed I do. I believe in what he represents, and so long as we keep the Christmas spirit alive, he will always be real.

Ho ho and ho.

Merry Christmas to you and your loved ones

T
Diary of a Deluded Heart

Surrendering to Change (Pt. 2)

2.jpg

Dear Deluded Heart,

Growing up, I always feared that moment of binding commitment. Each decision would weigh heavy on me, because I knew my decisions came with the curse of “forever”…

Like the keeping of the most sacred of vows, once I made a choice, I’d compel myself to stand by it. Whilst this made me a woman of my word, it also made me a woman of a few words; I knew I had to tread carefully, for I had no second chance.
Committed to the cause, I stripped myself of the virtue of a restart; a change of mind, heart or circumstance was a luxury I did not allow myself to have. I told myself I could only choose once, and then tied my fate to my decisions. My choices were not subjected to change, and that was a heavy burden to bear.

But I’m finally surrendering to change.

We are in the presence of Continue reading “Surrendering to Change (Pt. 2)”

Letting go of the Past (Pt. 1)

1.jpg

Dear Deluded Heart

Sometimes I feel the past trailing behind me, like a cape blowing in the wind. Except, this cape is not empowering. It’s a slow stalker, unassuming, always present… tied like a noose around my neck.
It is the memories of past events, which form the fabric of this cape. The problem with this, however, is that memories can be a misconception; the grandest of delusions. Like a magicians slight of hand, it’s all trickery. Memories can reveal the magic – be it joy or trauma – and conceal the trick; the actual truth of the events.
The greatest trick that my memories perform, is that they cloak themselves as longing; when I choose to remember, I think I still desire. So I keep myself remembering and hold onto the feeling of wanting. But in this twisted slow dance, I lose the verity of my thoughts. When I finally do face my past, the memory – which disguised itself as longing – finally comes out from behind the rose tinted glasses. I find that the cape was just an illusion upheld by my selective recollections. It only served in slowing me down, and it was one that I no longer needed.

This sudden epiphany came from today’s events: I finally confronted a piece of my past: For far too long, I’ve held onto Continue reading “Letting go of the Past (Pt. 1)”

Dreams|vs|Broken Dreams

Dreams|vs|Broken Dreams.jpg

Dear Deluded Heart,

Dreams are as fragile as they are sturdy; they will stand for as long as we chase them. The end of a pursuit however, turns dreams into broken dreams. And broken dreams always come back to haunt us.

That is the nightmare I fear; I dread the turn of the table…
…The slight tip of the scale, between dreams and broken dreams: Where one drives me forward, the other will run me over the edge. Where one Continue reading “Dreams|vs|Broken Dreams”