Friday, May 27, 2011


The pale seductive page staring back is mocking you. This is not the way it's supposed to be. It never was. It never will be. Time stands still as it moves on with its life. The wheel is spinning but the hamster is long gone. One word and an awkward space in between. It's been a long time coming. But it's not enough. It never is.

Because enough is a relative term. It's a qualitative quantity. What was enough before isn't enough now. And what is enough now will not be enough tomorrow and the day after tomorrow. It's an addictive inconvenience, one you would want to eliminate for your own good, yet one you keep falling for time and time again. Some would argue it's a healthy addiction, but the truth is, no addiction is that good.

And so you try to sober up. "Hi. My name is Me and I'm an addict." You try to make amends. You learn to appreciate the little things. You start to look at the world through nearsighted eyes wearing contact lenses. Beautiful. But then your eyes start to itch and the picture is blurred. This doesn't feel right anymore.

So you throw away your one week sobriety chip and you go back to your old ways. This is, after all, the only way you have ever really known. It's not perfect but it will do. And it may not always seem like it's enough, but that's exactly what makes it so pretty perfect.

That's exactly what being a dreamer is all about.

Not settling for good enough.

Monday, May 16, 2011

It's a bird! It's a plane!

Ten years is a long time to search for something. Dreams are forgotten, people change, rainbows wither. Then suddenly you find yourself having early morning conversations with your fourteen year old self, only to find out that some dreams stayed there all along, packed and parked in the exact same place you left them. Because sometimes, you don't have to let go of the past to move on. Sometimes, it's better to risk everything than to hold on to nothing, especially when nothing is everything and you have everything to lose.

And the truth is, you don't need to hold onto somebody if they're already in your heart. They will always be there to help you leap tall buildings in a single bound. Because when you believe in someone, it's not for a minute, or just for now. It's forever. And forever, just like ten years, is a pretty long time to search for something, especially when that something is nothing, and nothing is everything, and you have everything to lose.

Epilogue. Just like the boy who grew up in the fields of Kansas in a little town called Smallville. The same boy who turned into the Man of Steel ten years later. He put on a blue, red and yellow costume, complete with a cape, and he defied gravity. And now he's flying high up in the sky.

Is it a bird? Is it a plane?

No.. it's..


But it could also be you.

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

The Frozen Nun

The smile she plasters on her face is almost unrecognisable. Her eyes, staring at the silly silhouette, frozen. Not brain dead frozen. Frozen standing still with potential thawing as the only sane alternative. Because doing nothing and expecting a different result, or any result at all for that matter, is pretty moronic, not to mention naive. Ignoring all the blinding neon signs is one thing, but choosing not to act on them is another.

And the truth is, everybody lies, but you, lying to yourself, is as big a sin as a nun french kissing a priest. Risky and thrilling at first, followed by annoying awkwardness, confusion, and a recurring feeling of apathy and numbness. And oh, God forbid, loneliness, disguised in black and white, escaping a sacred comfortable convent just because it's not fulfilling anymore.

Because the sky is not always the limit and roses are not always red. The expected can become the unexpected, the known the unknown. And in the middle of all this shuffling, in a playlist of forgotten emotions, you might find yourself remembering.

Vaguely. Remembering what it would feel like not to be frozen anymore.