Fixation.

You’ll see me use the word creative so often. 

For I look to find the ways in which to be uninterrupted, creatively uninterrupted. 
I do not know what you may think of this constant need to go on and on and on about something I seem to have already bored you with enough. This must be tiring. Utterly repetitive. Why must I knock a door, the same door, so frequently?  What is wrong with me? What is wrong with YOU for bearing this sort of loony behaviour?

The limitless mind left limited.

Oh God.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

tell me,

what is your fixation? 

-Rizwana

p.s.  this post was not an excuse for sherlock gifs. i promise.

As Them?

These
stubborn lungs,
inflate and let go.
And while I have
let myself,
inflate of

h o p e s
and
d r e a m s,

does not letting go,
make me just
as stubborn
as them?
-Toto

O’Dreamer.

You remember how you were always a dreamer as a child? You could breeze through anything and everything, just like in those old cowboy cartoons: a swirling rope in hand, ready to grab hold of whatever the heck you¬†wanted. Maybe dreams in a child’s brain are found too easy.

Maybe as you grew up, the ground split and all these walls erupted. Maybe you thought you knew where to go to find all those dreams that had so much potential, so much need of a dreamer and his rope to grab onto them.

Oh if only dreams could speak your language. They’d call you; you, who¬†despite being¬†baffled and lost, were always meant to reach them. But your ears don’t hear and your eyes see concrete.

 

So now as the charisma of the world begins to fade behind these walls, you put down your rope and sit quiet in this grey space only just busy in your waiting.

 

Darling, you think your dreams will come get you now?

-Toto

It was always your fault.

You might feel like a pebble sometimes.
Feeble and helpless.

Like your presence is just a public service announcement, letting others know that you’re very much available to be stepped on and crushed.¬†You tell yourself, “it isn’t their fault”. They reach for the stars and pebbles like yourself are just the means to reach those ends.

You begin¬†to think that perhaps¬†if your surface was a little more polished, then they’ll see! Maybe then they’ll take you in and let you have a glimpse at the stars.

Because surely, it was always your fault.

You never let the crowd pass judgement on your worth. You’re a failure¬†because¬†people never said so otherwise.

You just have to submit yourself and ask for their permission to set you free. You let them, no beg them to do that, and there is no one stopping you from reaching those dreams! At last, you are unbound, simply unstoppable.

But no.

How can this be?
You had begged them. Showed them how it hurt to be stepped on, how much you liked the way stars let loose their light like a paint drop in water that doesn’t let its surrounding feel deprived of the colour.

Yet they never stopped stepping.

All you ever got was just greater distance from those stars, your dreams. Betrayed and crushed, why are you still bound?


Maybe it’s because you¬†had it all wrong.

You failed when the light inside of you was dimmed, by the light you thought was worth begging others of.


Only
just that, had made you a pebble.


-Toto