” With freedom, books, flowers and the moon , who could not be happy? ”

-Oscar Wilde




I inhale calm

and exhale turmoil



my mind falters

Pushed into a state of alarm

My senses fail me

I fumble around for something

to hold on to

as I’m pushed over an infinite void


Along the way

my body reminds me

that the disease is not only one of the mind

making my heart race endlessly

making my head split open

and my words choke me




I try to find out

what pushed me over the edge

Try to find out

what I am afraid of

But I never do.


I can never win

the other side is always stronger

The other side knows all my weaknesses

The enemy resides in my own mind


Constantly fighting a battle

One that leaves no scars


There is nothing you can do

But hope for it to pass

It never does

It hovers over you

waiting for a chance to strike



A blessed curse

I wish I knew earlier

that people like you exist

not only in fairy tales

and myths and lessons

but in real life


I wish I could

forgive and forget

but you’ve changed me.

Changed the way I

see this world.


I see you in everyone

I see you in everything

I see you everywhere

I see you in a cheat

I see you in a lie

I see you in fake tears

and fake smiles.


I wish I could say

I wish we had never met.

But you’ve strengthened me.


You’ve made me see

the beauty in innocence

love, laughter, peace.

You’ve made me see

how precious humanity is.


I wish I could say

I wish I never met you

But all you’ve given me

is hope, courage

and belief in myself.


Oh, my curse

what a blessing you’ve been to me.




drøm – /drœm/
“Yes ; I am a dreamer, for a dreamer is one who can find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.”
 – Oscar Wilde

Don’t apologize

Don’t apologize for who you are. Don’t apologize for what you’ve been through. What you’ve become. Don’t apologize for your preference. Don’t apologize for your beliefs. Don’t apologize for your opinions.

Don’t apologize if you don’t comprehend. Don’t apologize if you don’t agree. Don’t apologize for not being reckless. Don’t apologize for taking care of yourself.

Apologies are beautiful, but they are also precious.

Don’t apologize to someone who feeds off it. Don’t fuel an ego. Don’t elevate arrogance.

Be kind. Be kind to those who can see it.



Sunsets on oceans

skies pink and blue

Vanilla scented lotion

fresh morning dew


Starry nights

endless dreams

Pillow fights

cookies and cream


Strum of a string

roads narrow and taper

Ochre sun rising

and the smell of fresh paper







I don’t write

for impression


I don’t write

for expression


I don’t write

for appreciation


I write merely

to make my voice



Not in a sea of

a million others


But over an

ocean of my own.

“No one has the power to shatter your dreams unless you give it to them.”

-Maeve Greyson



You won’t understand.

I don’t blame you.

We are broken machines

parts of us

that keep us alive





Creatures of rust.


It is this

rust that drives us

to madness.



Sweet child

of this

enchanted universe


You’re bound

to an infinite



Held in your arms

Warm in your embrace


Your suffering creates

quite the spectacle.


You’re broken

haven’t been hurting

You’re choking

biting your tongue

You’re dying

haven’t had a taste

of life


You’re exhausted.

Rest child.

Awaits you

your cosmic infinite


You think girls

are stepping-stones


Staying rooted

to our spot

as you sprint over us


But we aren’t.


The more mistakes

you make

the more lessons we learn


The more steps you take

the more leaps we make




I want to lay

in a starlit field


in my own




I want to breathe the fresh

sweet air


awakening every part

of my body




I want to remain

at peace


the sole daffodil

is taken by the wind as its own

for that

is my cue

to leave.


When I feel


I pick up my


to write


When I


I feel blue

yet again


It is a puzzle

an illusion


It is the journey

not the



It is the process.


Art has always

been about the






the biggest misconception

of all

is that

home is a place


Home is not a place

but a feeling


Home is not where

you sleep

it is where you are at rest


Home is not where

you eat

but where you are



Home is not where you live

It lives within you.


Home is a city.

Home is a memory.

Home is a person.

Home is an illusion.


To some,

home is merely

a piece of paper

and some ink.

What are we?

Are we our thoughts?

Are we our actions?

Are we our beliefs?

Are we

who we consider

ourselves to be?

Who we speak to

in the dead of

the night?

Or are we

what others see?

Tired, bored

overworked, upset

always having

an excuse for

behaving the kind?

Is that what we are?

Fat , thin

dumb, smart

rich, poor

dead , alive

Is this what defines us?

If we are

different things

to different people

does it only matter

what we are to ourselves?


Oceans of people

satisfied with the gleaming surface

We will never find out

What we are.



We will rise

with the sun

We will grow



we may fall

we may crumble

We may fail.

But we aren’t afraid

Or ashamed.

We will fail .

Not in vain.

We will fail.

Over and over again.

Flaunt the failures

upon our very skin.

We are proud.


Our blood



Why would we

be ashamed of

who we really are?


We are alive.







//inspired by Adagio in D Minor//


I am


from my own thoughts

in a game

of hide and seek

Like a mother

and a child


trying not to be found

and to be seen




one of us

will give up



You know 

something went wrong 

when whilst

making your future 

a better place

you begin 

to question 

whether it is

really even

worth living in. 

What pressure would 

you be under

to live the life

you always dreamt


Would you even 

sleep at night


your past

was spent

wasting away

to live a better life 


When does later 



How hard is 

it to accept

that those

truly happy

bask in the glow

of their memories.

Not their present.

Not their dreams.

How hard is it 

to accept

that the journey

is infinitely 

more precious

that the 


How hard?



Cosmic infinity


Looking up at

the enchanted

infinite spread

laid out by 

the stars 

against a dark


I feel trapped

in a glass jar

If you feel

the way I do

then maybe 

you know

the glass does 

not exist

Yet we will

perish within its


We are doomed

Privileged enough

to witness brilliance

but hapless 


to attain it

Not because we 


But because we 

don't long to


13th of December – Awakening


One and a half


I spent

Convinced you were

the soil holding me

but now

I can see

you were

nothing but 

another weed. 

When successful people talk about their journey – often comes a point where they are – quite literally – awakened. They attain this brain wave out of absolutely nowhere, that – well, changes the entire course of their and in most cases the common man’s life.

Let me tell you something It’s never sudden. Not ever.

You can’t get an earth shattering thought out of nowhere unless you were pondering over it all along. Yes, even when you absolutely sure you were not. Your subconscious was. It never put the case to rest. Whether it was a fan theory you conjured out of thin air or a math problem you just couldn’t solve – you don’t just wake up with answers or well, better questions that lead eventually to answers.


I found one of those answers today.

I can positively say that I have never been as inspired and as motivated in my life.

What awakened me was a picture of another daisy who stumbled into the deceitful soil I had. Another daisy convinced the soil was fertile enough to plant her seedlings. You can try all you want, as hard as you can sweetheart, you can color the panther pink, but you can’t change his nature. A predator will always be a predator whether or not he asks his prey for consent.


I never thought this would affect me so, I never did. But, I cannot be more grateful that it has. Ever since I manged to pull my roots away, I haven’t thought about it. The name that had constantly played in my mind now only fleetingly made its appearance. I didn’t mind it. Not much had changed in my life. I wasn’t happier, but I definitely was not worse off. I was at peace.


Now that it has awakened me, I am ready. Ready for all the challenges I had taken upon, convinced I would be able to tackle them – but never having the motivation. I know things would turn out well – whether I worked hard or not. (well = I wouldn’t die of starvation.)

But now? I will burn all the obstacles to the ground. And bury them. I will be my own soil. I know what strength will power holds. I have never been excited about putting in sheer hard work. Now I am. I can’t go to sleep but I can’t wait to wake up. I have never been this excited about life before. I don’t like how I got there, but all that matters to me now is that I did.


After chasing mist for so long, I am glad to finally see the peak. It’s crystal clear. It’s out there. Out there for me. It’s crystal clear, I can almost taste it.

It’s out there for you too. All that’s left to be done is to trample over the weeds. The rest, well – the rest will be taken care of by probably the most trustworthy person on the planet.








Why, I asked her

do we wait for

the rainbow after

the hurricane

but are afraid

of the storm

after calm?

Sweet girl, she smiled 

It is what is

worth waiting for

that matters

Bold , I spoke

I think a storm is worth waiting for .