Thoughts run in tandem with the ink, feelings are channeled from the cerebrum and onto the blank canvas. Ever so often, ideas are scattering and merging like water at dew point. I fathom that i am lost within myself, as if my very being has gone incognito and altered bearings. The black and white antenna provides a better broadcast for those who wish to get a better signal.
It is an arduous task, initiating written voyages with different colored paper fluids,expecting the masses to comprehend the situation; after all, a pen can sometimes be the best brain prop. However, giving palpability to my own thinking in due course provides a formula, one that i utilize to brew a solution. I no longer feel stagnant like a hamster on a tread-mill, i feel my mental self traversing over social barriers… i feel, progress.
This place, is not my image of absolution, its one of the many checkpoints; there’s a journey yet ahead. On a stage filled with lush vegetation and liquidated soil, I feel at peace. As cool as whiskey on the rocks, this domain oozes of hospitality. Tempted to pitch a tent and call this home, but my mind tells me otherwise. This is not my full potential, I deny the thought; the fog of war still lingers above the darkest recesses in this barren wasteland. There is still more to explore, I owe it to myself and those who believe in me to unveil every nook and cranny that this place has to offer. I look back at my place of rest and wonder if its all worth leaving. Does all I hope to achieve truly lie somewhere within the sand dunes?
Lacerations well placed on my face, sandstorm grains doing what they do best. As I push forward with nothing but hope as my guide. A collective mirage of dreams, uneven in nature like the given terrain. Back-tracking through my withered journals. Flipping pages soiled by fragments of the desert; the earth’s idea of a joke, giving a whole new meaning to sand paper. Triangulating my position, give it time, success may be in the next step.
A figure that deserves more than one look,
Sculpted with patience and revoked of flaws.
From a crate of empty bottles
Came one which is undefined by the contemporary,
Filled to the brim with perfection.
Like a rare gem,
The figure glitters,
Bearing traits of a mannequin display;
Gaining the attention of those who pass it
A pure reversal on Midas touch,
To those who gain the privilege to get into contact with it;
More meaning is given.
Life is a journey, filled with multiple forks in the road; a pathway lacking carriage markings, the signs are not apparent. Recollecting the past, remembering the moments that need editing; a momentary glimpse of events occurring in ways I wish they would. A sense of nostalgia that has us wishing we could go back in time, for minor re-adjustments. Feeling like a funambulist on a tight rope, the idea of choice is obsolete; I can only look where I am going, forward. Rough patches are a given, In a race to the top, barriers are nothing more than building material for stepping-stones. Dwelling on the past, wishing for change; a mission that bears no success in reality, only in the mind. Yesterday is a relic to change, well out of our reach, today and tomorrow are well within our sights. We are not alone on this journey, it is an exodus to the future; a future in which all of us, much like a band, play a part. So let us reminisce, but at the same time remember that our past is gone and done for; what we need to focus on is our present and how it is going to change our future.
Live life to its fullest, a literal beacon of joy, illuminating the dark thoughts of loss and despair within peoples’ minds. Striving to be the people who cause happiness wherever they go, not whenever they go.
The love blossoms for yet another day like a flower in its early revelation; with a field covered by red roses of passion and an abundance of green; a symbolic renewal of energy that will last a life time. The sun encompasses the entire valley and goes through the venetian blinds with a soothing warm light, an illumination that does not only resemble hope, but an everlasting beacon and reminder of the sensation within me every time you are close. A small breeze that brings a strong calm within me every time I recall us staring out into the distance. The photographic memory of the minute details on the landscape embedded with the different shades of colour, seamless artistry. Looking at the clouds and envisioning different shapes and forms that we brought to life.
I look at our foot-prints situated in places untrodden, simple markings that show how many adventures we had. Holding your hand and feeling the steady pace of your pulse against mine as we walk to our desired location. An unintentional yet beautiful collaboration of our hearts pulsating in a rhythm like calisthenics. Looking into your eyes and seeing a reflection of a face that no longer needs a mask of deceptive joy. There is no doubt that everything is headed in a positive direction, it’s a current of water that is leading to only one thing, happiness.
-Dante CLOUDs part 1
(Originally posted June 13, 2013)
The one who will change your world, everyone waits for such a person. It’s the one who willspark a particular side in you and change your perspective on love entirely. Where they are, and what they’re doing is an unknown, but as days go by, you draw ever closer. The relationship will not be perfect because of the persons’ stunning good looks, it will in fact be who they are and what they do that brings the best out of you. It is the one who, unlike the rest of the horde, will not be an additional statistic to your list of lingering problems, but a solution to all of them. Their love will be so strong and warm, it will feel as if they have a physical manifestation of their feelings towards you. Whenever they are in close proximity, you will feel like you’re in a safe haven. It is that one person who will understand you like no other human could. The one who will not tolerate you, but love you unconditionally. That one person who has the ability to increase synergy in a relationship regardless of an argument. It is the one who will give you a reason to smile after a long and hard day, a happiness donor if you will. It is the one you can’t wait to stand with at the end of the aisle. Such a person is undoubtedly hard to find, but eliminating the possibility is tantamount to giving up. People who believe in finding such a person are considered wishful thinkers by a larger fraction of the populace. Indeed, they might be, however it seems notably better to be on the team that still believes in true love and fairy tales than the one that settles for the first frog they see in the pond. Patience is a key virtue, no-one ever said the one you’ll ultimately love will have a name tag. The person could be right next to you, or you may not share any geography or landmarks at the moment, but one thing is for certain, you draw ever closer. -Dante CLOUDs part 2
A maze of mixed thoughts, seemingly blended like punch, nuclear fusions coupled with nucleosynthesis and potential supernovas; a gauge with nothing but red on both ends; hierarchical structures that constitute rooms filled with memories and dreams. Hallways that look like a Rubik’s cube, with a palette of doors that resonate different personalities , repeatedly shifting places. Wallpapers plastered on the walls, covering cheap framed pictures of the pretentious and conniving. A laboratory filled with beakers, solutionsfunneled, filling volumetric flasks only to heat them with Bunsen burners, flames envelop carefully thought out combinations to achieve the unachievable. Adventurers unable to decipher the cryptic map, folded like origami, twists and turns that are only navigated through gracefully dropped bread crumbs.
Striving to discover that which hasn’t been found, the cruiser travels through the storm, sails are left tattered and cargo that provides dead-weight is left as flotsam. Like the Napoleonic wars, the boarders expand, the blockade stays steadfast like the iron curtain, either whatever inside does not want anything getting in; or it is considerably comfortable that it does not plan on getting out. Parchments within the domain, as frequent as they may be are saturated through brainstorming. Work benches, schematics and bricks; materials to construct a suitable future for myself and those i care about. Time will tell, if the informative signs were throwing the blood-thirsty hounds off the right scent or onto an indefinite detour.
Waking up from a world I thought was real, looking everywhere and seeing multiple projections of the person I’ve become. Through slumber, I find circumstantial footage of myself, reacting to events in ways I never thought I would. A dream with a twisted idea of mathematics, subtractions I never saw coming, people dying, leaving me powerless in the wake of a situation I thought I would be able to handle. Mirrored reflections, all reacting in different ways, none mimicking my initial motions. Doing what I can, polishing the mirrors, clearing the smudges and fingerprints intended to hide my true nature; each step counts, I can feel the need for progression, I hear it, as if my shoes are laced with wind-chimes.
Has the time come for me to be open? like a graciously provided Christmas present; willing to show content I keep on the inside. A habit i’m not familiar with, a stranger to my own emotions. Not that what I hold is invaluable, but it goes to show what I truly feel. One with the algorithm, calculating each move and staying true to myself, sheer authenticity; that is how I plan to maintain and increase the intended velocity. A tide of change, washing away what was, and bringing onto shore what will be.