Posts Tagged ‘despair’

image of a guy asking did you stop dreaming

Showing up at weird intervals of time, my deferred dreams flicker akin a broken light. Some dreamer does that to me. When I forget that I am a dreamer too, out of nowhere comes along something or someone with a dream to tell me – what lurks inside me is more than real as well. That it is possible, that every success story was in fact a dream first, a mere thought in the head of a thinker that just got acted upon.

I believe this holds true for every winner out there:

He lost too. Hope. Despair gnawed at his soul too. But in the end he never stopped believing in himself and the idea that tagged him all along. He won because he worked, toiled hard, diligently to get there, and that’s why he’s there.

Every stride I take in the right direction fills me up with rejoice. It is nothing, but hey, it is something! It makes me believe that it can be done, that the impossible journey can come to fruition with one step at a time. Even though I give less of me to it, it is filling up nevertheless. One day it shall brim up and be complete.

I have never truly stopped believing. I do succumb to inevitable indolence at times, or get distracted by things I shouldn’t lose my focus on. But I have come to believe that it is okay to lose time, as long as you are invariably coming back to to the spot where your hiatus lies.

Trust me, it’s worth fighting for. Your dream. The colossal image that you bide by every single day. Nobody has seen that image but you. Even though the world says it’s impossible to get where you intend to be, remember dreamers have always been intimidated. But despite all odds they make it because their belief beats mouths. Their vision beats norms.

Be a dreamer. Be a silent worker. Keep at it, and never stop!

The Perpendicular Universe The missing piece

I miss everything about you. All it takes is one glimpse, and I melt away like a candle. I can distinctly hear that silent noise of defeat as my heart’s warmth eats me up. I can put a finger to that feeling, I surmise – despair blended profusely with a lot of missing.

I imagine touching your hand, taking your arm, feeling the softness of it within my fingers, whilst your crystal clear contour shyly peeks at me, asking me to stop. My mishap made me not get enough of you, which I would have willingly succumbed to, had you steered my way. It leaves me with these fanciful whims that always fling me towards pits of emptiness.

I have questions I seek answers to. Just a mere mention of you fills my head with thoughts. Does that happen to you too? Did your moving on ever come closer to the hell I lived every second of my life? Do you often feel that void in your life too? Most important one of all, “Do you miss me?” Or is it all just me? The fool who thought he was in love. The lone warrior who keeps fighting battles with his own subconscious.

Sometimes I feel sorry for myself. I have wrapped myself up in this plight of mine, my very own coat of pain that has girdles of barbwire percolating through me. I stand bewildered, watching as it grows in on me. Sometimes I wish it undone, and give in to what life has failed to give.

You are the future I never had. You are the chance I could never take. I miss and miss, and you fade and fade. That’s how we are meant to be. This is what we are meant to be, until a day comes when I wake up in tears and forget your face.