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THOUGHTS OF A VISIONARY

Expression through words


Her thoughts grew like white roses, but the thorns pierced her mind,

A paradoxical enigma , impossible to define.
Her cranium echoed the whispers of the words so unkind,
And though her legs rapidly carry her away, inside her head she is confined.
For her compassion had never been nurtured, therefore it did not grow,
When she needed water and sunlight, her petals were buried under snow.
But her roots have been lifted, and fixed in the earth's warm core,
now ultraviolet energy surges through her veins, and she is not cold anymore.

The thought of losing what has never been mine,
doesn't do justice to our destinies design

Why would the world be so cruel as to let our souls collide,
only to tear us apart, like I'm the shore and you're the tide

I would make you my sun, my moon and my stars,
we could wake to the sound of waves and not cars
And once we've escaped to a far away land,
our trails will fade, like footprints in the sand.
Life feels so surreal. I wake up every day different like I am several people from a video game crammed in one body, spontaneously changing character as they please. Like the sky is always different, so am I. Pastel pink and blue skies calm me, but ferocious burning ambers warm and thrill me. I've heard that you should challenge yourself once every day, getting out of bed can be mine today. Ahh. As I drag my legs out of bed like pulling a rusty anchor from the bottom of the ocean,  I can endure the standard blunt ache, pain and soreness in every fibre of every muscle of my legs from my training/torture of the night before telling me that they've had enough, begging me not to push them anymore but I fight the desire to collapse back down and continue to walk anyway.

I'm not a 'morning person', but I do secretly love the mornings. I dislike being disturbed from my escape of reality, a beautiful senseless dream after forcing myself to face the day and remove myself from the comfort of my bed that always feels like I am the filling of a fluffy cloud sandwich in the morning but any strangers cold bed at night. All of this counterbalanced with the sun, soft but blinding, peaking over the black outlines and shapes of buildings shooting golden rays at my dusty window that seep light through the oak wooden blinds whilst the room glows with an autumn warmth. Most of all the blissful silence and numbness of the world and my mind. Erased memories, empty roads and lifeless streets. If I'm lucky, I won't remember the stresses and worries of yesterday for a while, I will feel light and free like helium has been pumped into my lungs, as if I could float out the window and touch the sunlight with my fingertips. Until the deafening ring of the alarm shakes me out of my bubble and i become exposed to the harsh world we live in. The silence is interrupted by the buzzing of merged voices getting louder and closer, the light is blocked out by scrambles of crowds and endless numbers of indistinctive faces, i remember everything i  wanted to forget and suddenly i am not floating, i am falling, faster than  my brain can process. Overwhelming thoughts swarm my mind like distressed bees in a hive flooded and oozing with honey.
 My body takes control and routinely stretches my arms upwards reaching for the ceiling knowing I won't contact it as I slowly rise up to my toes and with the cracks of my bones,  I'm ready.

(An old extract written in 2013)

To some it is the key purpose of our species existence, it is the trail of golden breadcrumbs of undetectable clues that destiny dusts over your path, it is what entices you to spontaneously turn right instead of left one day into a collision of another soul carved so intricately and compatibly with yours. To others, like myself, an alien concept I haven't quite grasped the understanding of... yet.  It's almost a coming of age ritual for an 18 year old to make mistakes when trying to identify this concept/feeling/choice with our na├»ve and self assured frame of mind.  Whilst the lion's share of teenage girls I am acquainted with seem to trust they know it all, it's the clarity of my confusion that concerns me a little. The fact that I am aware and understand my misunderstanding. The fact that my realisation and acceptance of this knowledge doesn't disturb me as much as I imagine it should.
And each time I glanced away from him, I felt his gaze strengthen as though he was feeding off my timidity. And each time I returned I was met by two beautiful hungry eyes... hungry for colour, for light, for mutual contact. They were blue and icy yet somehow held a warmth in them that enticed me in, a warmth that could only come from within, a true indication of a fine heart. It may have only been a single moment, or a compilation of single moments but it had captivated me and tattooed my mind like a photograph.




I existed in the still darkness at the back of the cab. My thoughts did not accompany me but they too were in darkness. As the vehicle intertwined the towering structures of the big city like a concrete labyrinth, I heard the sounds of moonlight sonata glide past my thoughts softening the harsh sights. We passed replicas of indistinguishable buildings that blurred in my mind into one stretched panorama. We had traveled far but it seemed time had frozen. I had the strangest notion of being in space, being motionless and alone, watching the earth from a distance. The frowned on drinking culture that littered every street became a moment of art and the intoxicated creatures belonging to it were no longer disturbing but intriguing visions as I knew they could not reach me. Looking out upon the chaotic disarray only made me feel more at peace, the same way you feel warmer in bed when rain droplets knock on your window outside. I had become a secluded voyeur of the nights secrets like the stars that hid behind the clouds .  This did not feel like my home anymore, it felt like London.