71 – I’m back?

Not blogging has been really rough on me. I’ve been having a lot of interesting dreams as well as terrifying nightmares and it’s really taking a number on me. I think it helps to write about them. Try to decipher them, but not hold them as important or meaningful – Freud made the mistake of putting too much emphasis on dream interpretation…While they may contain messages,  I think in the unconscious world, imagination has free reign. And imagination is not fact, not truth, not meaning, it just is.

I’ve been pretty isolated from friends and just people in general but happily so – it’s nice to be home and not sick and cold. I do need to focus on being productive though. And not procrastinating. Sloth often has the best of me.

I want to write more. My passion has whittled down to a tiny flame and I can’t wait to help that flame grow into a hearty fireplace blaze. It will take a lot of time. A lot of learning. A lot of discovering just who I am as a writer. It’ll be challenging and fun. I just hope that I’ll let myself travel the road instead of standing still at the starting line. Motivation. Is. Key.

I’ve been reading lots and have finally dragged myself to the library again (well technically my mom drove me, but that’s beside the point). I never got a library card in Toronto, so it’s nice to just dive into that kind of atmosphere again. The first few steps into the place felt like walking into a sea of knowledge. I love it. I crave it. It’s euphoric.

Been watching a lot of Law and Order: SVU, catching up before the next season starts later this year (or next year). I love the show. It gives me a slice of life. Transports me into a world I will probably never venture in. Some episodes terrify me. Others leave me emotionally moved. It’s a good show.

The earth is beautiful. Gargantuan. Expanding for miles on miles in its complexity, mystery, and invocation. I could explore it forever and still never tire.

But internally, inside everyone of us is an equally beautiful world. With its own knots and tangles waiting to unfold, to be expressed. And I love it. Mind OR matter. There is much to discover here as well. And many of us choose not to go there. But I think it’s important. To understand ourselves before moving on to understand everything around us. Just a thought.

On a more relevant note, this blog needs a makeover. Desperately. I’ll give it one soon.

I have a lot to catch up on. Hopefully I’ll get back to reading blogs as well as writing them. 🙂

Imagination

My heart has shattered

Fiery pieces scattered

Passion crashing to the floor

 

I’ve lost myself

Crashed the shelf

I can’t take much more

 

Vacancy in my soul

Time and toll

Rundown to the grain

 

Rosy finger paint

Dullness and faint

Creativity down the drain

 

Someone, please

Give me ease

I want to feel the verses breathe

 

Follow me

Light the sea

Let the flames grow and weave

 

Let it come

Strum by strum

Oh just let it come

A little and then some

 

Let it come

Wash us numb

The sweet taste of imagination.

64 – off hiatus (hopefully)

It’s been a while. A long while.

I can’t say I’ve been too busy or preoccupied to write, because a true writer will always find time to put pen to paper – I mean that in the metaphorical sense since I’ve been putting so much pen to paper in the lecture halls that I can’t wait for another break.

On the bright side of things, I feel happier, more comfortable being me. I think this blog is in need of a dire makeover. That’s a motion I can’t wait to put into action when I have the time to do so.

I’ve begun to recover a part of myself that I thought I lost long ago – the literature-loving, vocabulary-consuming, story-immersing, bookworm side of me. I love it. Currently enjoying the Oryx and Crake trilogy by Margaret Atwood. Just finished the sequel The Year of the Flood. They MUST be read in order. I had tingles midway through the book when it started referencing events that occurred in Oryx and Crake. It’s been a while since I’ve read the first book – I think I’m going to reread it before starting Maddadam.BOOKS. Eeeek. I feel like I’m twelve again.

What I miss most about blogging is reading. I mean that with every centimetre of my sentimental heart. I missing feeling connected to a particular piece and in turn that particular person – I miss indulging myself in the pleasures of the written word. I can’t wait to return to that realm of entrancement. Read, read, read, and maybe write a little. (Speaking of which, Nessa, you need to read your biology textbook…Sigh).

Today is one of the chilliest days of the year. I must admit that the moments I miss home the most are those when my face feels like it will freeze off any second.

I’m happy though. To have the luxury of experiencing somewhere new. But it’s definitely high time that I get back to something old…something loved. Ahh. I feel another part of myself returning.

I apologize if my writing is a little rusty – I’ve done nothing but take notes for the past few months and note taking isn’t exactly the most creative process. I have had a considerable amount of dreams and stories floating around in my imagination though. Those have kept my mind running. I’ve also had a fair share of nightmares though – those I don’t enjoy quite as much.

I think I will start writing or posting pictures as smaller pieces without categorizing – I have always found my urge to organize restraining to some extent.

In any case, I’m elated to be back.

58

I feel a little guilty having not posted anything in a quite a while, but at the same time, I haven’t had the urge to write anything lately.

It’s weird. Usually the thoughts or words or lines of poetry flutter in from time and time, reminding me that this is a world that I still belong to. But lately, this world feels so distant. It’s frightening…because writing is a part of who I am and these words are what keep me from falling off balance.

This is freedom to me. This is where I am able to indulge in my imagination without no boundaries of purpose or word limit. I like this. I’m well aware that I’m typing all of this now just so I can convince myself of the fact. I’m sorry for that.

For those of you who have stood by my side as I write out all these thoughts and emotions – thank you. I wouldn’t keep coming back if it weren’t for you.

I’m sure, that somewhere in the edges of my heart, there are words that I want to release upon this blank canvas. There might be something beyond my scope that is preventing me from doing so. But the written word is magical and I will return to it time and time again. Time and time again.

Sigh.

Those were the times.

I miss staring into the horizon

wondering about

all the possibilities

that

tomorrow

would bring

 

I miss thinking

that

the only limitations

were the skylines of your mind

 

I miss the daydreaming

that existed

before the coming

of habitual tendency

of responsibility

of maturity

 

I miss the luxury

of freedom

of believing that anything was possible

with a forward looking smile

with kaleidoscopic eyes

 

Those were  the times

when happiness came naturally

and needed no protection

from our sighs

needed no provocation

and no reason

to exist

 

Those were the times

when happiness was happy.

If Magic Existed

If magic existed in books and orbs,

There would be no doubt to what it absorbs:

Creativity and thought, charms and cheers,

Untouched by all the little doubts and fears,

Wishes and fantasies, all love and light,

Unscarred by darkness and unscathed by blight,

Imagine how mighty the orb would be

If powered by a simple child of three.

Dreamhunter

A collector but not quite what you’d expect,

This lone seeker of the promised confect,

He traverses strange realms, capturing aim

Though dreams are not tamed, but beasts of infame.

 

Solving a puzzle one dream at a time,

And melding together pieces of rhyme,

Armed with a dagger of aspiring goals

and wit and cunning from a thousand woes,

He will continue to hunt and hunt and hunt

Until he has cleansed all beasts from our front.

 

Shattering what feeds our imagination,

As victim to his quiet sedation,

We should run, we should hide, we should fight back,

Let the hunter taste our surreal attack.