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An Unfulfilled Desire…

19 02 2010
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Time passed him by before he could stop and think. He had a life, he was living, though the reason was unknown to him. He gradually grew with the rest of his friends, yet, unlike them, he lacked that one true desire of what he wanted his life to be.

His winters were cold and busy with work from school. This was the period when many ideas unraveled in his mind, but as yet none could be achieved with all the work he had. His summers were boring as he had never had a job. The ideas and desires he had in winter were all gone and forgotten. Anger made his blood rush to his face, and hated the decisions he ever made. He thought his life was terrible.

He was a creative person but did not know it. The way education taught him suppressed his talent, as he was taught of doing things the way everyone does. He was different and his way of doing things took much longer, but it satisfied him.

No longer was his talent suppressed, but it shined out of him instead. He always had the wish of publishing his own novel, though as this desire was unfulfilled, he published his own writings on his very own blog.

Even though the blog was not popular or any good, he felt that it was a good start to fulfilling his unfulfilled desire. This was his best way of teaching himself, rather than the stereotypical education; or so he thought.

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Categories : Writing

Floating along…

13 02 2010
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These memories float across my head

I lay them all on my bed,

I wait for something old

I get something new,

I enjoy it all

And say it’ll never fall.

My future I don’t know

But I will still grow,

No matter what they say

I will always lay,

In this time

To continue my little rhyme.

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Categories : Writing

Keep Breathing…

12 02 2010
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Laying alone on the wet grass smelling the fresh air before sunrise. My hands open face up beside me, empty. Tiny lights in the sky glitter as memories fly through my head; childhood memories. I close my eyes as I start to give up. Thoughts that belong to a pessimistic person run through my head.

Until someone came to lay beside me, holding my hand and staring at the starry sky. I open my eyes, look into the eyes on my right and back at the sky. The thoughts I had are now gone and I simply Smile. I realize now that I always knew who I was, I simply did not notice it. I feel Alive.

Alive, but don’t know what to do. I look beyond the stars and think, “All I Can Do Is Keep Breathing”.

Mood: Peaceful :]

Listening to: Keep Breathing - Ingrid Michaelson

–Always Smile–

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Categories : Writing

Arrows…

10 11 2009
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I feel my life is a bunch of arrows leading to many places…some are interesting, and some are boring…some I wish to keep, and some I wish to forget. Many paths that lead to nowhere, few that lead to somewhere.

Though Life’s a journey and one must try every path to find the right one. Don’t enjoy the ride…Create an enjoyable ride!

Listening to: Casper’s Lullaby

Mood: Thinking…

–Always Smile–

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Categories : Day-to-day

Time for another story…

28 10 2009
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It is time to tell yet another story.

A story that took place centuries ago within a

forest under a particular tree; The Tree of Tranquility.

It all started when a boy ran away from

home and found shelter under this short

wide tree.

Six weeks and three days he spent sleeping

at that place. Though when he woke up, he

wanted to return to his dream.

A quiet and peaceful space within his head

surrounded by nothing but light. He simply

sat and stared, though he was not bored.

The feeling he felt was what kept him happy and

did not want to lose it.

Though the time was up and slowly

returned back home to make peace with

everyone, and remove anger from within his

soul to keep the feeling of the dream within him.

As he changed, everyone around him started to change,

becoming like him and feeling the same feeling.

From that day on he kept returning to that tree

with others by his side, and they all saw and felt the same.

Everyone who went there took someone

else to experience the dream.

Though a time came when the tree was forgotten,

yet the story lives on.

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Categories : Story

Random Pic of the day…

18 10 2009
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Too Attached?

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Categories : Day-to-day

One story that I forgot about…

15 10 2009
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Sailing away from shore Tom waved to his family on land, which soon became a dot in the distance. Hours, days, and weeks passed by, Tom was completely relaxed and the fresh air was incredible. This is what he had planned for the journey at sea; to get as far from Life as possible and to realize his dream.

Yet one day this peace was interrupted by fear. He had read many books about sailing for days and one common phrase was an ancient superstition,

“If a floating bottle is seen, expect the worst if not death”

As he was thoughtfully staring at the horizon he saw, from the edge of his eye, something in the sea which was not there before. He looked at it and realized it was a wine bottle; fear filled him even though he was not superstitious. Scared as he was, he picked up the bottle and realized that something was trapped inside.

Now curiosity replaced the fear. He could not remove the cork so he broke the bottle on the outside of the boat so as the glass would fall back into the sea. He grabbed the paper before it touched the water and, as he sat down comfortably, he started reading the note.

Dear anyone,

This is an important note that will hopefully bring peace to my family, if I die at sea.

Please go to the address below and tell my family that in my favourite room, inside one of the legs of my favourite chair my Will can be found.

Hopefully everything will be peaceful again, for I have decided to divide my valuables with my family.

Please who ever You are, if You are reading this then my family is not at peace until my Will is found.

Thanks,

George Holton

The name was followed by the address of his family. Tom’s thoughts kept rolling, scrambling and thinking about this letter, did it bring a curse with it or was this simply the reason why he had to be at that place at that time?

Tom got out his map and compass and started the engine once again after weeks, and decided to head back home, to fulfill another man’s dream since he did not have one of his own, he thought.

*Written on 22.04.09

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Categories : Story

Everything Happens For A Reason…

30 09 2009
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There lived an old man who had nothing in his life apart from his little blanket, the clothes he wore, and a flask of water. One day he found a little pile of wood and a penknife on top. He decided to spend the rest of that day creating something. Late at night he looked at his creation; a bald, naked puppet girl. He went to sleep and did not wake up the next morning.

The puppet was kicked around by passing people who were too busy to care. She soon ended up in the trash can. Suddenly she sprang to life. As she got out of the trash, strings started to attach to her arms, legs, and head from above. They guided her through her journey. She wanted to be like her creator; to give birth to something after she dies. She soon found a seed and preserved it throughout her life.

Years passed and the strings started to fade as she became more and more independent. One morning she went to the fields like usual and buried her seed. After she did so she fell to the ground into a pile of wood once again.

She saw her creator walking towards her, and together they stepped into the Light. She had no fear, the only thing that crossed her mind was that Everything Happens For A Reason.

I wrote this when I was much younger. I modified it a little, as it was too plain. (I just love to read things I have forgotten about) XD

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Categories : Writing

In the dark misty cold night…

30 09 2009
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When I was Younger (maybe about 11 y.o.) I had written my first Poem. It was (still is) my favourite. Lately I have read it again and wanted to share it.

In the dark misty cold night

A girl crept towards her house

With difficulty on her way.

She had plenty of knowledge

In her hands, she tried to

Use it, but never managed.

Some years after these

Painful but worriless moments,

She was in a beautiful

Painless, sunny, bright

Road with so much

Knowledge in her head,

But it was only her dream,

Her goal,

She was once again

In the dark misty cold night.

I wrote another one today about the girl. She’s still in my head, She’s always in my head; her long black hair, and her white face. She never gives up and keeps trying to go to her house.

In the Dark Misty Cold Night

The girl crept towards her house once again

In the middle of the road,

As She noticed someone watching Her in the shadows to her sides.

Her dream was still unknown in the mind of known,

Confused all about yet didn’t have a doubt.

She kept on crawling towards her House,

In the Dark Misty Cold Night.

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Categories : Day-to-day, Writing

The Little Beetle…

25 09 2009
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Walking across the soil was a little Red Palm Weavel. It longed to find its place in a world full of space. Its journey was long and its Hope was strong. In a distance the beetle saw its dream but at the other end there was its mate. Confused and indecisive the beetle did not know whether to choose the tree or the fellow beetle.

It turned and crawled towards its mate. Happiness was found, and did not regret her decision. They both spent their time together and shared all they had; their secrets, their bodies. They crawled together and traveled to many trees. This was more than the beetle could ever want. They had there young.

Out of nowhere came their destruction. The other beetle ran away and left her alone. Man moved in the beetles private home dragging her away to never see her young again. It was then that she understood, it is not what you achieve and gain but simply your experiences and memories that count, and the way they change you.

The little Red Palm Weavel escaped from the clutches of their hands and flew off to a far away land. The memories hurt, but it was simply to make her who she was.

-Just a little writing-

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