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”

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Diary of a Deluded Heart

2.Diary of a Deluded Heart DODH

(- Part 1 -)

You’ve all heard of the great Heart vs. Head battle. Well perhaps it is essentially because of this struggle that I’m at war with myself; – except mine involves less heart and more imagination… so it’s the clash between my Head vs. Imagination which takes charge of this deluded heart.

In this conflict however, there’s a fundamental problem; one lives within the other. Therefore, I live in a world with blurred lines intertwined; what I actually see with my eyes versus what I want to see with my mind. This world is a place regulated with changeable rules, governed by desires and idealisms, which do not depart through the barred doors of realism. I choose my minds eye to lead and blind myself to reality. But where I’ve chosen to move ahead with my imagination which transcends me to a place of infinite possibility, I find myself moored to the dock, chained to the place of my first dwelling. I’m a master of my own outcome on the one hand, but an immobilised and powerless pawn on the other.

I’m a captive who holds the key to my own prison door; the one that would allow me to go beyond just the theory of love/life/everything and towards the horizon. It is however, a key I’ve never attempted to use to escape with, because in a world where I’m anchored by inexperience, my imagination is liberating and sets me free…

I’m imprisoned by my only form of escapism.

So, the question is, do I continue to follow the manuscript of my mind where I’m stagnant and unmoved, yet free to wonder as I will? Or do I take myself beyond the shield and follow the lead of my head, where the air on my face is real yet the shackles of my feet weigh me down as I try to move forward and wander off into the real world..? Catch 22. “Great figure 8, or a tiny infinity…?”

(- Part 2 -)

For someone who’s never experienced love before, I’m always in love.

That’s not the best sentence to start off with; something contradictory and unfathomable, but it’s the God-honest truth; I’m in love with life and people and – kidding, I haven’t turned into a cliché just yet – I’m just in love with figments of my own fantasies I suppose. Granted they all begin with some sort of truth, usually the fictional or famous kind, but then the rest is all me and what I morph these ideas into.

Once I choose my target and cast them as my hero of the hour, I draw inspiration from their life; injecting parts of it within and then projecting it into the walls of my own mind. I adopt an internal view of an outsiders world… and in this enchanted place built up of their world and laced with my own perceptions and judgments of it, I fall in love; both with the idea of them and the narration of my version of them, so I guess…with myself…? Continue reading “Diary of a Deluded Heart”

Time Talar

1.Time Talar DODH.jpg

Welcome to the standstill; here in my timeless volt lays unspoken words. Guarded by broken clocks, these dormant verses have served no other purpose than to just be. But I’m about to shake up the sands of time, delve into history and finally set them free; I’m venturing online as I time travel into my work: old and new.

I’m fortunate enough to have documented my words and thoughts hoping that one day I could gain perspective from my history so as to build on my future; to get into my own head with a new perspective and extend my thoughts, turning the fleeting finite moments into an ever-changing infinite cycle. With that, I found that I could finally go beyond being a writer; I became the storyteller, the muse and the reader, shifting perspectives as I orbit around the centrepiece of my work. Continue reading “Time Talar”