You are a masterpiece in the making. This pathway you’re taking should never be judged lightly, as the harsh reality will hit you like a hailstorm. Despite this long and difficult journey, I will still be here no matter what, because in all my time as an observer, I’ve never seen such incredible beauty grow. I’ve witness the quiet, gentle voice you express when you talk about your passion. The softness never fails to send shivers down my spine, it never fails to crack a smile in the corner of my lips. I’ve seen the spark in your eyes as I watch your face glow with both excitement and determination, perfectly mirroring your deepest passions. This warmth you emit encourages the happiness inside me, often in times of defeat when the last thing on my mind is joy. But somehow you do that, and I can’t help but crumble before you as I attempt to collect those three little words. I look forward to every idea you pull out of your hat like a magician, completely immersing my soul. I can’t help but concentrate on your bright red lips as you spill feelings of hope and wonderment. I‘ve known for a long time the beauty in you, and I can’t help but stare in amazement.
An Old Scar
You have become a ghost, an image of the past. The only power you have left in my life are the scarring memories you left behind me: The midnight Skype calls, the goodnight messages, the quirky rants, the dreams we shared. But they’re all just dents scratches that cannot be painted over. You gave me some of the best times of my life and I will always be grateful for that. I will always cherish the quietness we shared, the beautiful silences of realisation. You sparked the realisations of all the potentials in life. The potential of a happy life, filled with blissful escapes, exciting adventures, and moments of pure love. All these moments, these small aspects of my life were shaping up alongside you, alongside us. And for once in a long time, I was incredibly happy. I spent every day with a plan; I was productive, thinking it was all going to work out. Then when night came, I was able to spend countless hours talking to you, discovering more and more about you.
But then came the end of us. Ever since you left, I’ve been trying my absolute hardest to fix everything about myself, from the oldest scars to the freshest wounds.
Beautiful Torture
Each time I saw you, a piece broke off,
like a snowball crumbling away.
You reminded me of everything peaceful,
just to resurface every bruise on my heart.
You were here for only a moment,
yet the scars you left will remain forever.
I did not know how to move on from a moment,
a moment gone too quick to understand.
The softness of your voice,
the smoothness of your skin,
the kindness in your smile,
forever branding themselves into my skin.
I learnt from you that even beauty,
especially beauty,
can be the worst form of torture.
Ocean’s Calling
Could you see,
the darkness beyond the horizon?
It’s calling out for you,
seeking your very presence.
There is nothing here for you,
not anymore.
Only the crushed shells,
the sunken soles,
the broken water sinking us deeper.
Maybe it’s time for you to go?
The storms ahead will guide you,
along your journey for the next island.
Maybe then you’ll find him,
the one meant for you?
Missed notes
I know I was only a whisper,
mixed with the sounds of the wind.
But I was hoping you’d hear my voice,
as yours was the only voice I listened to.
I’m sorry if you read these too late,
but know that it’s okay.
I’ll be gone by the time you no longer feel it,
the soft emptiness irritating you,
an emptiness you’re not quiet sure why.
I’m hoping you’d see these notes in time,
in case you can stop me before I leave.
But I know deep down,
that you’ll only romanticise them,
thinking they were only abstract,
meant for no one.
Before I go,
know that I wanted to leave three little words,
words too difficult to say without fear.
So I leave this,
encryptions in notes that may never reach you.
Questions of life
Ever dream of the end,
the closing of the gates?
Can you see anything beyond,
or are you filled with fear?
Do you see life as an end goal,
or an adventure day to day?
Does financial security mean anything,
when your job becomes lifeless?
Do you seek what you want,
or what you need?
Could you starve yourself for a week,
if it meant you could write your best that week?
Could you sacrifice your sleep,
if it meant you could be the best in your field?
Could you grow old,
knowing you didn’t accomplish your dreams,
because the risks were high?
Do you ask the easy questions,
or the necessary questions?
My unforgivable mistakes
Leave me here, twisted in my own guilt. Let me stay in the quietness of my worries. Love me from a far enough distance that I can no longer see. Lose every care or worry you once held close to yourself as I will no longer be here.
Make me suffer in the unforgiving silence of my regrets. Mumble every word that you are too shy to say clearly because I need the hard truth. Make up with all the old friends you lost because of me as I am no longer around.
Never forgive me for the scars I left on your heart because they will be always be felt. Nullify every emotion you once felt towards them as I no longer deserve them. No matter what happens, never forget my mistakes.
Note: Just a play on words as a way to try something new!
Untouched nature
I remember the fountain that rested at the bottom of the stairs, its aged, silver statue up straight in the middle of it. It used to be my favourite little resting place where I could easily turn the pages over and over without a moment of interruption. It was perfectly rounded within the centre of the formation of cracked stones that lied beneath the stairs. In between the cracks, small growths of nature crawled through, greeting the air with it’s soft shade of green. Beyond the stones grew knee deep grass, with overgrown trees overhanging above. It was as if the place was untouched, with nature claiming back their land. It was a quiet bubble of beauty within a world of non-stop clattering, a world filled with people too busy to acknowledged the softness life has to offer. It was my little spot to read my favourite books without even a speck of worry. The trickling water behind my as I lean on the fountain, the air filled a silence filled with rustling leaves and soft chirps of passing birds. In the moments spent hiding away from life, I never felt the need to include music, as it would only ever taint the air. Instead, I spent my days peacefully reading with nature whispering on my neck.
Why is my work worth reading?
“Why is my work worth reading?”
This is a question I want to try nailing down for my audience. It’s not so much that I create content in the hopes to develop some form of income. I’m here because I believe in the passion I have towards creativity.
I’ve spent a large proportion of my life exploring the various amounts of art, from realistic paintings to web-development, from graphic design to animation and game design, from architecture to woodwork, from playing the piano to creating song lyrics. I have discovered incredible amounts of passions for every single piece of work I’ve dedicated my energy to, but unfortunately, most of it never lasts. But recently I’ve been able to find my sense of whereabouts in the creative industry, and I believe it’s partially writing. The reason I say writing is that I also want to dedicate my energy towards the promotion and encouragement of artists from all forms of beauty.
I plan on writing poetry, journals, anything as a way to build up my creativity and possibly get myself out there. I’m also using this as a means to develop my skills and style that could mould my identity into what I believe is the true self I’ve searched for all my life. Throughout this pathway of exploration, I will dedicate time towards workshops that could potentially benefit me, allowing for more refined content.
In regards to the promotion and encouragement of artists, I have dedicated my studies towards commerce, as well as a 16-week workshop every Saturday in web-development. I want to implement every piece of knowledge gained from these courses into my future plans. I believe my passion towards this future has been alongside me all this time but in the form of mixed feelings and confusion. Rather than just seeing and appreciating one’s art, I always felt the need to do it, whether it was watching an architecture construct a stunning house with complex plans with exact dimensions, or an animator presenting the raw emotion of happiness in the form of a young child running through a beautifully coloured setting of nature. This even occurred within the proximity of family, with my brother being the best surfer I know without that statement being even a hint of exaggeration.
At this point in my life, I have realised that I cannot be everyone at once, I cannot go down every single pathway that sparks even the slightest interest. I need to find some form of middle ground for myself and this is where my plans come in. I’m not interested in the monopoly of the industries, I’m not interested in some grand cheque every month. I’m deeply passionate for the hard workers out there, the artists who stay awake day and night dedicating themselves to projects one after the other. I’m here to find some form of means to promote them, to relieve them partially of their stress behind their creations. I am here for the broken artists, the ones lost in the maze of depression, the ones wandering around in the fog aimlessly. I am here for the artists shattered by their physical or mental illnesses. I believe I can do that because I come from a background of illness with my complex heart conditions, partial deafness, damaged lung and years of depression. I want to use my past as a means to communicate with struggling artists, with those who feel like their issues are roadblocks when they’re merely pillars of who they are.
So I think that’s enough of a detailed answer as to why my work is worth reading. I hope this will be able to give some kind of insight as to who I am and where my passion lies.
Beauty in dark corners
A lovely person lately brought to my attention that my fatal flaw is that I can’t help but see the best in people. I must admit that I do understand the reasoning behind it as I have met my fair share of tragedies. But it’s a flaw I’m willing to suffer with because I just know how beautiful the best can be. I know to some extent the small beauties behind the characters people often hide. Whether it’s the unrecognisable kindness behind simplistic syllables they choose to share, or the easily missed nod when they’re focused on your words. I’m often catching myself noticing tiny wonders behind people as I learn new beauties.
I’ve taught myself to explore the people I meet, not in the way a dissection would study someone. I rather explore people to find their true selves, because there is nothing more incredibly than the true passionate spirit. To find an individual’s deepest passion is extraordinary. It allows for them to open up with me and in some cases, I can help them. I’ve met many who have been lost in the furthest corners of depression where they feel like nothing could help them out. But through all this darkness, I’ve seen incredible talents. I’ve met writers who could bring warmth through her delicate writings. I’ve met beautifully talented designers who scream beauty through their compelling pieces. I’ve met musicians who could pull out the unspeakable truths in the form of a song.
Regardless of where someone has been or possibly still going through, I will always try my hardest to find their inner fires.